For Nothing, For Everything, For the Birds
by sekai no yakusoku
Summary: You'd think they'd just admit it by now, but nothing that matters is ever that easy and what of it when your heart belongs to two, and not one? Add the return of Trigon into the mix and that's a veritable mess of trouble.
1. Prologue: Still

Don't own teen titans, sadly.

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**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

Prologue: Still

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He sat, watching her, still as night itself, and just as invisible.

_Her_.

He wondered when he began to crave the sight of her so...undeniably.

Obsession was a familiar consort of his, but this new point of focus perplexed him like a stranger with no name. He watched her as she turned and walked from one side of the roof to the other, swinging her legs over the side, leaning slightly on her hands as her hood slipped off.

And still he watched.

Her hair had gotten longer, a little past her shoulder, reminiscent of the day she had blown her dear father back to Hell where he so definitely belonged. The watcher held back a scoff of absolute disgust. Through that ordeal he himself had learned that lords of Hell had no finesse, a finesse that he had much skill and therefore much clout in. Stirred out of his musings as the object of his secret desire—not love, he didn't believe himself capable of such a thing any longer—shifted restlessly in the starlight.

Skin that by others might be considered a pallid grey appeared to him as a luminescent nameless shade.

Absently he got the urge to move that soft curtain of purple away from her face, out of her eyes so that he might gaze at them without her knowing. He suspected the muscles in his armored fingers of aching with that desire and shrugged it off. That in itself was too affectionate a want; he had long since convinced himself it was fine to desire, to lust. They were after all rather sinful things and sin was mostly what he had made his life about, granted sin with an elegant touch, but sin nonetheless. Fondness was a definite taboo though.

Obsession he could deal with, had dealt with, would deal with.

And while obsession was, he admitted, never healthy, this one was particularly troublesome in that it still would not go away.

Still.

Still, after many months of training, many days of channeling his hate in the general direction of the titans indiscriminately, many hours of harnessing his darkness, she called to him without even the slightest attempt to do so.

It burned him really, to be gripped so wholly, so unknowingly by a child. Was he turning to pedophilia? He hoped not and crushed the thought with the obvious. If memory served right, she was more than eighteen, if only a little.

No longer a child.

Not that it mattered.

Age difference aside, besotted with the enemy was never a good state to be in.

With that thought, a dual colored mask disappeared into the shadows from whence he so often came, his vision fraught with a beautiful, silent raven.

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The girl he had watched, now somewhere at that threshold of womanhood and adolescence, exhaled roughly into the wind, making waves break at the base of the T Tower's island in oddly shaped half-circles. Unaware of the eyes that had up until seconds earlier been on her, she let her own wander over the edges of the night, relaxing into her solitude and frowned. Even all these years later, emotions more under control, wisdom closer to the surface than rage and the team still rock-solid together, she found herself much suited to quality time with herself. Comfort didn't necessarily incite peace though.

Raven Roth wished a little that the time she spent with her fellow titans was less forced. She made efforts hoping those efforts would become unconscious, natural. But it was not to be, it seemed. She still made better friends with books and old scrolls, made better connections and felt safer in the confines of her barely lit room. On top of that, she longed for the few emotions she did feel to rescind from her heart.

"Can't sleep?" a calm voice asked behind her and those emotions reeled in surprise even if her outward demeanor hardly flickered.

"A dare I call it 'trendy' happening of late," she smirked with a dry sarcasm that was not at all unkind, but humorous.

"No rest for the wicked," the boy wonder quipped, settling beside her on the edge of the tower. His stare was unhidden even behind his eye mask as he scrutinized his dark friend. Robin had long since stopped berating himself for detailing her with such a quality, having learned the very fine line between what it was to be dark and what it was to be absolutely evil. In fact, he often felt himself more guilty of the latter than Raven herself, half-demon or not.

_She_ had not agreed to be the apprentice of what Robin considered the very embodiment of said evil. _She_ had not conjured some self-destructive thief in the night in order to quench his unhealthy thirst for justice and excessive obsession with that one particular villain of questionable origin. _She_ had never given up.

He doubted, briefly, that she had ever considered such a thing. Raven, he thought with the smallest bit of envy, did not believe in surrender.

"We're not wicked," Raven said carefully, her articulation and inflection indicating all that she did not say.

"My choice of words is never as good as yours," he admitted, a hand running through his hair that was, due to the time of night or early morning, sans gel. The empath only now noticed this and quirked what appeared to be a small smile, not a smirk or a sneer or anything like that. This was one of those rare Raven smiles that was something you had to look for, something that Robin had only recently noticed himself looking for more and more when he spoke with her.

"Well, you have your technology and I have my books. We're all entitled to our areas of strength, boy blunder," Raven said.

"Are you insinuating I'm not well-read?" he arched an eyebrow at her, slightly insulted and more so amused.

"I'm not 'insinuating' anything. It's a fact," her deadpan assertion.

"I think I'm being insulted," he mused.

"Smart little bird," she mussed his hair without thinking, meaning it to be a playful gesture, like one she would partake in with beast boy or even Starfire, if with less enthusiasm. It didn't quite turn out that way as the dark-haired young man before her tilted his head to one side, as though considering something and, with another unconscious movement, brought his own hand to encircle her wrist.

"I'm not little," his words were not meant to be a whisper. He blamed it on the sea breeze, not relinquishing his hold on her and Raven forgot to breathe as she realized their closeness. Now, in the past there would have been shattered windows, probably a totaled T.V. set and a general power outage, among other things.

And he hadn't even made a real move yet.

Luckily this was not the past and Raven's well-practiced emotions settled for what resembled a very strange game of ring-around-the-rosy in her head as her leader and friend absently rubbed her wrist with his fingers in gentle circles, a lover's caress, even if he didn't know it.

"You're going to bring me that sleep I couldn't attain if you don't stop that," she tried joking since pulling away would have been way too revealing. To her combined relief and dismay, he was not the least bit put off.

"Funny, I'm more awake than I was before," he inched closer to her, breath a warm wave of shared air on her lips. That was it, she had no other option, she reasoned and gently, oh so gently, moved away, just out of his reach, her wrist slipping from his tender hold. "Raven?" he asked so much with just her name.

The moon glowed like a large pearl in an ocean of black and blue as she pushed herself to her feet and took a few precautionary steps farther away from his hurt expression, away from his confusion.

"It's not wise," she chose her words with the greatest care, as usual. She need not say more than the hardly palpable truth.

"I don't care," he wielded his like a weapon and a shield all in one.

"I do," she replied and turned and descended into the tower without another of her well-thought out words of expert detachment.

Robin sighed. He'd known pretty much that she would retreat into her shell, not that he blamed her. Since the defeat—however temporary—of her father, Raven had made clear attempts to renew her emotions, to reshape herself to each one, wanting to experience what she was now allowed. But so many years of not being able to seemed to have harshly handicapped the dark-eyed girl and she still found very minimal joy in their group outings or even innings.

The fight with her father had brought him a gift that showed him beyond doubt the truth of his feelings. He had literally been more than willing to not only go to Hell but to go there with his most hated nemesis, all for her. And he didn't think it noble or above others that he had done it. He knew of course that he would have done it for any of them.

But afterward...

After she, Raven, all by herself, had stood against Trigon the terrible, after she had blown him back to the nothing place he deserved, after the sun came out again, she had said something in her quiet, measured voice:

"_Somebody believed."_

And how could he not? How could he not believe in the most hopeful person he had ever known?

But her words came across like a glimmer of something no one had dared to believe was in her ability to experience, much less share: love. Pure and without the shadow of anything—not her father, not her own self-convoluted thoughts, not his own doubts that were there as he was very human—her words said 'love' without even trying. And she wasn't trying. She was just feeling, finally, after all that time, she had been feeling and nothing had been exploding in to a million little pieces.

Robin had an inkling she didn't even realize that the smile she gave him was a brilliant one, a lover's smile; in fact he knew she didn't and it made his chest tighten with the knowledge that maybe the only time she would say something with such loving care to him was when she was unaware.

That was just one moment.

And that was the world to him suddenly, the tenderness in her inflection, the light of her smile, the comfortable way she fit against him as she latched uncharacteristically onto him in a soft approach rather unlike the usual kindly but air-depriving tackle of Starfire or the right-out attack of Kitten.

_Raven_ had hugged him. _Raven_ didn't hug people; it was practically a rule! But there she was with her slender arms wrapped around him and after the initial barrage of shock he had been certain the other titans were experiencing passed, he'd simply stroked her hair and smiled with his reply.

If anyone had had any reservations about her, her more than incredible hand in the revival of the world had thoroughly erased it.

There could be no question about it.

She cared for the titans beyond any misgivings, beyond what any of them could compare with really. She hadn't been kidding when she said that they raised her. To her, the titans were and would always be her only family, the people that she loved. Raven did love them. Robin knew that too.

And he loved her. They all did of course, but Robin...he sighed.

Love meant so many things: loss, hope, pain, euphoria...and to him, love was quite simply Raven. He'd admitted it to himself some time ago but not to her, never to her. It would make her feel cornered, no matter how he went about it. He'd learned as much from their recent conversations or shared silences. And still...Robin's brow furrowed as he glared at nothing, intending the glare fully for himself.

Still he'd almost—or had already, quite possibly—stepped over the line...

Still he'd nearly taken what he had wanted for so long, nearly thrown caution to the non-existent winds and shown her how much he cared, how much he longed for her...

Still he'd let himself forget that important thing.

Raven's space was her safety net.

And he had invaded it.

He cursed himself and his hormones—not in quite that order—and returned to the tower himself, pondering how to soothe the ruffled feathers of his companion bird while unbeknownst to him, several uncharted miles away, an old enemy of theirs mulled mirthlessly over his own begrudged feelings for the dark empath.

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I don't know if this is something worth continuing but let me know if you've got a sec.

Thankies!

:waves and disappears to find chocolate:

-Rei


	2. Chapter 1: him and the other guy

**First, thank you to everyone and as far as I know, here is thank you for each person having reviewed 'for nothing, for everything...for the birds':**

**Neverwinter****: thank you very much for your review. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be um, a meanie… hope this chapter's okay**

**Allie: I thought so too, hence this fic...after all Slade himself has said that he and Robin are very much alike.**

**Lady Sonora the Black-Rose****: HUGE THANK YOU for the vote of confidence. **

**icegirlz13: wow, that is a really nice compliment! And I'm still new! Thank you so very much. I really appreciate your words!**

**Cherry Jade****: you are absolutely super cool. Thank you so much. You're so supportive:hands cookie:**

**RedRover3173****:big smile, like more smiling than Starfire with mustard or raven during a power outage:waves around huge sign of THANK YOU-ness:**

**shadowheart13****: Seriously, people letting me know that THEY think I should continue is a huge driving force for me and source of my ability to plow on. You're awesome. Thank you for taking the time to review. **

**YinMiltato****: I very much agree. My eyes just about popped out of my head when THAT was the last flashback scene when he said that. And actually that quote is worked in here...muahaha. Slade's super creepy but super awesome. "It's always the quiet ones." Only HE can get away with such a ridiculously cheesy line and make it shiver-down-your-spine sinister all over again.**

**Morbed-Kai****: 'badly in a good way' is perhaps the most accurate way of describing it! Thank you for taking an interest in the fic. Hope it keeps your interest alright. **

**Celestial Chaos****: your willingness to click submit review much incites me to continue writing, as I've said to others, but I appreciate every review with much enthusiasm. I am really glad you think this fic is worth continuing.**

**Royuki: here's the chapter. Thank you for the compliments! I intend to make the next chapter a little longer and a little more...um...suited to the T rating I gave it haha...anyway. Hope this one's sorta enjoyable, if not a lot! **

Reviews are super duper. Thank you so much everyone, and now, chapter ONE, since that last thing was um, a prologue...even though the chapter is shorter than the prologue and...uh...oh shoot. Balderdash. Oh well. Enjoy and if you do enjoy, let me know if you have time!

**Disclaimer**: teen titans isn't mine. Heck, even the plot has probably been used before, but hopefully mine's still interesting sort of...

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**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

Chapter One: him and the other guy

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Raven meditated in a fake calm, only pacified by the pitch blackness of her room. Footfalls could be heard outside in the hall and she opened one eye as a shadow fell across her door, standing in front of the light that usually seeped in through the crack under it. She detected a sigh and she knew it was him before he even spoke. 

"Raven?"

No answer.

"Raven, I'm sorry. I, I don't know what came over me," he lied through his teeth, leaning on her door. There was a pause. She floated over to the door, debating whether or not to let him in. He sounded so defeated and that scared her more than anything. Robin and defeat didn't suit each other at all.

"As fixated as I am by the view of my door, talking _through_ it is not my preference. Want to come in?" her voice made itself painstakingly toneless as she opened her door without waiting for an answer. That expression quickly changed however when the previously leaning Robin fell right on top of a bewildered Raven.

"Sure," he whispered, and while she could tell they were both very, very aware of their position, for some reason, neither of them bothered to move. She did her best to ignore how well they seemed to fit together, sprawled on the floor, limbs askew. He did his best to not let his primal tendencies get the better of him. Both mumbled half apologies as they hurried to untangle themselves, his arm from around her waist, her hand from around his neck and so on.

Once successfully separated, Raven floated backward, putting a decent five feet between her and the rather awkward situation that had just happened. Robin only took one more step in, just enough for the door to zip shut behind him like a lid on something very precious and very secret.

She focused on his feelings—strong ones, ones of frustration, anger, confusion, compassion, tenderness and lust around the edges—and doing the only thing she could think of on the spot, she acted as though she hadn't.

"Robin..."she trailed off. It wasn't like she'd planned what she was going to say but she had hoped it would go beyond his name, she chided herself wryly.

"I'm not interested in forcing anything on you, Raven," his voice was quiet, even, fair. She distinctly felt like she didn't deserve such patience. "But I've thought about this." He paused to consider his next words and she filled in the empty space with her simplicity.

"I know," her response was uncharacteristically soft.

"And I want to know why you think it to be, as you said, 'unwise'," Robin said plainly. Raven sighed and rubbed her arms as though she was cold, which in a way she was.

"Can you imagine what our enemies could do with knowledge of such a thing?" her question was his answer. The truth was he had considered this, of course. Robin was not only their leader but a strategist of decent learning. He had measured all possible pros and cons against each other and, in the end, he had chosen a chance with Raven over all else.

"I can and I did," Robin said.

"So you already know why," it was a murmur meant to be kind but it twisted his insides.

"Yes, but don't you think that maybe, just maybe, having already thought of what might become of us, haven't you noticed I'm still asking? Raven, we went through _the end of the world_. I just want you to make your decision knowing that it's not impossible. I can't leave this room not knowing if you understand how much..." his voice trailed off into the oddest form of fear Raven had ever encountered. Robin afraid? Beyond odd...

"'How much' _what_?" she pressed not daring to hope for what she had been hoping for since the defeat of Trigon.

"How much I—" and the word love didn't come so easily as fairy tales would like it to. "How much I_ care_," he said finally and Raven's eyes glistened with her emotions as transparent as glass for a split second before she recovered herself, steeled herself to be as she was certain she must be.

"It is for the best," she evaded his noble admission with a reply that even she would admit was cheap. To her astonishment and puzzlement, he laughed quietly.

"Yes, what we do is always 'for the best'," he had turned away from her already, arm leaning casually on the doorframe as his words echoed her own with an empty edge to them. There was another uncomfortable silence and then an almost inaudible sigh as Robin left her room entirely. Raven's hand went out unconsciously to hold him by his shoulder, to make him turn around and stay there until she let herself break down and gave into what it seemed they had both considered for some time.

"Robin wai—" her resolve began to crumble but her voice must have been so soft he didn't hear because he interrupted her.

She snatched her hand back as though bitten as he added, "Sorry to disturb the peace." Surprised by the blankness of his words, Raven was rendered speechless.

It did not sit well with her, this strange tearing sensation that seemed to stem at the core of her heart, but...

_Leave it; just let it go_, she told herself as the door closed behind him with such reverence she thought it must understand the graveness of what had just passed between the two responsibility-driven birds.

She did her best not the be affronted by a coldness she had provoked and while Raven would not cry, she felt a severe tension build in her temples and a stinging at the core of her eyes that could have been the feeling of suppressed tears.

And the two birds did not share another glance or word for the next five days.

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Responsibility and crying—however far apart the two usually were anyway—was the farthest thing from Slade's mind as he pondered what might be best for him.

For at that moment, he was the most disturbing combination of unhappy and vindictive since those chronicled by Voltaire as he paced like a madman who dearly wanted to tread a decent sized trench in the ground...not that it was necessary. His hideout was already in one after all.

So far as his well-educated mind knew, obsession was defined, as something indicated by persistent or intrusive thoughts, ideas or impulses, even images that repeatedly enter a person's mind. He laughed hollowly at himself. The dream had been so real last night.

No.

_The nightmare_. He had to keep telling himself that.

He was a villain after all, set in his ways and all that.

The nightmare had been a rather colorful one and briefly he considered the likelihood of what happened in his sleep ever transpiring in real life and just as quickly disposed of the idea. His lips on her nape, her form crushed against his as she trembled in a wildly sensual mixture of passion and fear, their mingled lust...it had all been so real.

But not real enough.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered darkly to no one but himself. When last they had met, and he had become very careful of not incurring the wrath of the titans as soon as he noticed his unusual predicament, he had worked alongside the leader: Robin. He had told the dear boy:

"_...and I must admit the fringe benefits were **most** enjoyable."_

Perhaps Robin had thought Slade meant fighting them with unnatural powers, or simply inflicting harm on a greater level. Either was a good guess, a predictable one, but good guesses considering their unique history.

Slade allowed himself the smallest of smiles that the shadows contorted into a sneer.

But that was not what the once espionage man had meant, not really. Yes, there were a couple memorable moments of the titans nearly crumbling before him and those were fine.

Just fine.

But it was the ones he spent alone with her that stood out to him

_Her_.

He remembered gripping her arms roughly with his, feeling her shiver defiantly as he showed her the world and its bleaker than bleak future.

A future she, he had been sure to drill into her pretty little head, would bring upon the world as they knew it.

He remembered her look of dread and resentment and while he would like to tell himself this alone was what made his memory of those moments so vivid, the truth was that he also remembered the sad state her wardrobe had been in at the time. Her body had been warm and feisty even in his cold, unrelenting grasp, struggling, always struggling...

He rather liked struggle.

Then, as if catching himself in the act of something heinous, he glowered into the blackness around him and stood up abruptly, bringing his fists down hard on the table in front of him. A glass fell and shattered on the floor quietly. It seemed even breaking things was a muffled action in what seemed like his millionth lair. His body was rigid with tension as he admitted to himself, not for the first time that week, that such a fixation dealt with something, a source, and that this one was a complex and nearly unattainable Raven. His fingers ached to touch her, his coldness called out for her heat and her anger and her fear under his control and he seethed at the thought that she did not even know what she did to him.

And it occurred to him, however briefly, that he seemed to have an unhealthy fascination with birds.

It was not fair.

But slowly, very, very slowly, Slade relaxed. His brain ticked in a time bomb fashion, dangerous and technically adept. If one could not successfully ignore the intrusion, the constant influx of lust for what was not allowed, there was a simple solution that most criminals had used at least once or twice.

Cut off the source.

Relaxing even further, Slade's clenched hands loosened their unfriendly grip on the tabletop. Having a plan soothed his damnable ache for the girl and the prospect of fighting the titans buried it.

"The sooner the better," he spoke to the darkness, to himself, as most semi-psychotic bad guys had a tendency to do and settled in front of a large flat screen and a panel with many, many keys.

His fingers tapped a few of them and then a blinking word prompted him for the access code. Humorlessly, he typed it in and went about devising a suitable plan of attack, not giving his typical disturbed pause to his dubious choice of passwords:

_empath_

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So it's a little slow, but um, still good? Er, maybe just okay? Don't worry too much about the cautious behavior of the birds. One can account for the lead bird by considering the phrase 'biding his time' and for the other darker bird by the phrase'self-preservation mechanism' or 'self-defense mode'. Next time, if you like, will be a little more um, shall we say, full-force? There's to be a catalyst event that will hopefully kick our heros into high gear, not just about crime fighting either! 

:nervous laughter:


	3. Chapter 2: pretty little bird

**OKAY, YAY FOR THANK-YOUS FOR COOLNESS...um, translation, if you don't want to, you don't have to but yet again, I felt like thanking everyone I was aware who reviewed. Since I ask for them it is only fair I pay proper respect to those who encourage me so nicely! The chapter is of course, after the thank-yous so if you want to scroll past them and read it first and then go back or whatever, be my guest. Otherwise, on with the gratitude:**

Final Fight: I don't think I'm capable of writing a decent allusion to rape, much less a rape scene, so we needn't worry about that. Something nearing those lines is possible, but never quite there, you know? It unsettles me too much. As for Robin, I apologize. I didn't realize I did that. I'll try to be a little more careful with his character; see, what I REALLY adore about him is his strength and I want that to come through, even if he does let himself experience emotions more he should still be Robin! Right? Thank you for the input and the review! Hope this one's okay. There's a little more feeling in this one. Less Slade, but what must be done, must be done sometimes...sigh. More Slade next time.

**Gilraen Luinwe**: Sweets, you're fantastic. Thank you so much for that super enthusiastic review. You definitely had something to do with me getting this chapter out by now. You're awesome.

Morbed-Kai: that's right. I am really glad you caught that. Neither Slade NOR Robin would just settle for killing her—taking Robin's somewhat psychotic side into account. Why kill? Cruelty has much more to do with what we do to each other when we're still breathing and conscious after all. Thank you for the compliment/encouragement!

Sage Raven: I am glad it caught your attention and do hope it can keep it! Thank you very much for taking the time to read through it thus far!

TheFonceSorcerous: Heh. Aw. Thank you. :gives cookie:

Gren44: Wow. Your review really boosted my motivation. You know, I adore all the encouragement people are sending me in the form of reviews. It's a really handy system has going here. I am glad I found it. It's never really been that anyone liked my writing at all. I'm glad I've found a place where some people DO like it. Thank you so much for your kindness.

Cherry Jade: Oh well, they DO talk… :sweat drop: er...I promise it'll get better eventually you know, after the drama and all that hullabaloo. Xx Anyways, THANK YOU CHERRY JADE! You are so super duper about reviewing all the time and telling me to keep going. I truly appreciate it. You roxors.

The Sacred Heart 2: Robin and Raven are just such a sensual couple in my opinion and often the stories are so much richer for it, mentally and physically. I am really glad you like them too. Hope the story keeps you interested and thank you for reviewing, as always!

fictiongurl: update tis here! Thanks for reviewing. Do let me know what you think of this chapter if it strikes you well.

**Neko**: THANKIE:smile:

chiclet2021: OH I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE THE TRIANGLE. I was hitting my head over whether or not to pursue the idea but I had just watched a rerun of 'the end' trilogy and it just struck me as quite possible. I mean, to many it makes no sense but since when do villains make sense? Even super cool smart and wicked ones like Slade. They are classified as 'psychotic' for a reason, after al! Anyway, rambling...sorry. What I mean to say is: thank you! There is not much of the Slade in here, but next time, lots more development of that side, and indirectly therefore, explanation and depth! Still, hope this chapter's good too.

**Dark Shadows**: Like Slade said, he and Robin are not SO different. It's a thought kinda on how it could have more to do with than simply brains, functionality, and the sheer willpower to be more than human, when you're anything but. A thought on how it could have to do with the human side, emotions and such, obsession of course, which is greatly emphasized in different ways in the series itself anyway! Thank you for your review Dark Shadows. Here be the update.

RedRover3173: Very happy you think it's worth continuing! Thanks very much for the vote of confidence and as thanks: this update and more to come. I've Slade workings on the side here as I type these thank-yous.

greygin: oh abso-positiv-alutely! Robin and Raven mesh quite nicely. I wouldn't even go as far as to say they go better than any other pairing possible, but it just makes so much more sense to me on a realistic level and then of course there's my personal preference, them being my two favorite titans and all...hehe...anyway, thank you much.

Lady Sonora the Black-Rose: accepts cookie with big smile THANK YOU! does happy flounce in circles hands you an ice cream cone

WWJDxLGLP: thank you!

Tecna: Could not for the life of me remember if I thanked you or not because the review came through for chapter '1' which is the prologue but after the bulk of the others, so just in case, here is a thank you to you and I gratefully accept the choco!

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**Thank you all for your fantastic support/encouragement/reviews/however one might interpret kindness that keeps me writing onward! **

**Thank you. Thank you. A thousand times.**

**And now, the second chapter.**

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**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

Chapter Two: pretty little bird

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Slade stood, uncaring of the world around him on the roof of one of the many buildings in Jump. His posture was one of confident ease but if one looked closer, past the initially lax stance of a defensive martial art stance, one would notice the alertness of his spine, the solid vigilance of his eyes. It was one of those ordinary days with scattered white puffs of clouds shaped like castles and dragons, the kind of day on which loved ones went for rowboat rides and small children caroused on park benches.

A perfect day made just a little more perfect by his ability to spoil it all.

The titans, they would come running...as usual.

He would taunt them...as usual.

They would give it all they had...as usual.

And, he would get what he was after with any luck...as usual. Or rather, who he was after.

_Her._

_The pretty little bird with demon wings. _

_Yes, her._

Slade suspected himself of letting slip something like a smile as he waited for the distraction to make its appearance, but it wasn't a smile. Smiles, by definition, were to have some shadow of underlying kindness. He had no such thing. Most accurately, it had no exact name; too cold and devious for a smile, too controlled for a smirk...as usual Slade stood on a level all his own.

And that was how he liked it.

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Starfire flew around, her brow furrowed in anxiety while Beast Boy pummeled mercilessly away at the heads of some unnamed creatures on his game station. Cyborg muttered to himself as he thumbed through technology magazines and Robin paced in front of the living room window. They were all worried about a certain amethyst eyed friend of theirs.

Raven hadn't come out of her room for days.

Every day one of the titans—except Robin who hadn't gone near her door at all—asked her if she needed anything, if she was okay, if she required help of some kind and every day she simply said "No thank you."

Well, lately it'd been more of an agitated "No."

There hadn't been any trouble in Jump that had to be attended to so she had not even come out for that. Robin watched vacantly as a timid Starfire made her way to the empath's door.

"Friend Raven?" her voice was more than a little apprehensive, as though the Tameranian girl expected the door to blow off its hinges at any given time.

"What?"

Starfire cringed.

"It is I, Starfire," the redhead said and hurried on to add, "I wondered if you would be interested in—"

"No...thanks Star," this last part was included as if Raven felt thoroughly guilty for the look of depressed resignation on Starfire's face, that she felt but could not see.

"As you wish, friend Raven," Starfire surrendered with such a look of forlornness that Robin reached out a comforting hand as she reentered the living area and squeezed the alien girl's shoulder as if to reassure her that things would be okay. She gave him a small smile and joined Beast Boy on the sofa.

"No luck?" Cyborg asked, knowing the answer.

"Friend Raven is most, um, gloomy," Starfire finally decided on 'gloomy' since any other words she could think of had strictly to do with strange animals on her home planet with even stranger dietary practice and odd habits of destroying small meteors, among other things.

"Dude, she's been in there for practically four days!" Beast Boy exclaimed, waving his controller around wildly, nearly hitting Starfire on the head with it by accident. He offered a sheepish apology and Starfire assured him that it was not at all a problem while Cyborg scolded the shape shifter about being more careful, but the boy wonder heard none of it. Robin had stopped pacing as though he'd only just registered what Beast Boy had said in reference to the reclusive empath.

"Five days," he corrected the green changeling carelessly and then, as if a thought had just struck him, he moved to the kitchen without another word. Cyborg and Beast Boy shrugged at each other while Starfire became somewhat engrossed with the colorful game on the screen, leaving their leader to his own devices.

A short while later a tea kettle steamed like a locomotive as Robin poured its near boiling contents into a mug and calculatedly placed a tea bag in it. He eyed the sugar with some reservation and then thinking better of it, put the mug on a tray along with the entire sugar bowl, and a spoon. Ignoring the questioning looks his fellow titans cast his way, he quite nearly marched to the door he hadn't approached since five days ago and, realizing his hands were full, kicked at the door.

Nothing.

He kicked again, putting a little more force behind it. About to simply opt for kicking it down altogether, Robin stopped, foot in midair when the door zipped open with an irate clang. It invariably tore at his cape when it closed behind him impatiently, invoking a curse out of the boy wonder who greatly hoped this was worth it, already knowing it was.

"Raven," he approached the silent girl whose back was adamantly facing him, like a soldier at Buckingham Palace, resiliently unmovable. "I brought tea," he explained with a meekness not his own. What was it she did to him that made him so certain and uncertain of things all at once? He'd dearly like to know one day. When she made not even a sliver of a movement to indicate she'd heard him, he set the tray down softly at the foot of her bed with an exasperated sigh that voiced everything he had no words for.

"You overestimate my sweet tooth." Robin halted abruptly, stopping just two feet short of the door. He didn't turn but listened as the soft pad of feet settling on the ground reached his ears, and then there was the clatter of a mug being picked up and the sugar bowl's lid being lifted with a ceramic scraping noise. Then there was the faint ting of the spoon as it moved back and forth, pushing the tea bag and working at dissolving the sugar more effectively.

Ting, ting...

Another ceramic scrape told him she'd replaced the lid of the sugar bowl and a delicate sipping sound prompted his next question.

"How is it?" Her typical moment of consideration passed between them as she faced his back, face still sullen with quiet and regret but warming slightly at how much he cared.

"It's fine," she said.

"Good," he said.

_Right_, they said in their minds.

Raven shifted the mug from one hand to another in an abnormal show of her lack of ease. She had moved her eyes thoughtlessly as Robin faced her again. Vaguely she suspected her eyes of scolding her in the less than accurate reflection in the still steaming tea.

"I'm sorry I've worried all of you," Raven finally choked out as though being forced by unseen beings to apologize. She ran to cover it up with an unnecessarily unfeeling, "Not that it takes much." Her lips busied themselves with the tea, ignoring the scalding effect it was having on her tongue.

"You should be sorry," Robin, for some reason, was starting to get angry. "Star's completely depressed; Beast Boy and Cyborg are bickering more than usual; and I, I haven't slept since the last time I came in here!" His voice had escalated to a startling timbre that made Raven acutely uncomfortable

Wordlessly, she set the mug down carefully on the tray.

"I haven't slept either," she conceded finally.

Her all too even tone suffocated him, made his blood boil something nasty. It was calm, collected—everything he wasn't at the moment and that set him off like a match to gun powder.

"Look Raven, if what you have to do is pretend it never happened, that you don't know, then do it, but now I need to focus on the fact that your unusually detached behavior is throwing the whole team for a loop. I won't order you to come out and be a social butterfly but if you could at least make the effort to do your usual daily appearance for tea and a few well aimed barbs at Beast Boy, it'd be appreciated," his voice bit through her with an untamed heat as he was back to being every inch the leader of the titans, solid and unmoving, and she didn't fail to notice the hardness in it but as often is the case, anger followed her intense pang of hurt.

_How dare he!_ _He comes in here playing nice with MY herbal tea and then just loses it? How dare he_! Her mind repeated itself, outraged. Part of her was letting Rage a little too close to the surface while, in an erratic manner, another tried to decide how much of this she had actually incited, but her most present self was running away with her mouth before she could stop it.

"Well, thank you for the option of free-will oh great leader," her eyes flared in challenge with wounded pride and Robin bristled, obviously equally annoyed and frustrated.

"No need to call me great, Raven." His smirk was comparable to a grimace of stone and the empath forced down the shudder that wanted to rip through her nervously. They had not had a disagreement, a bickering like this before. It was colder than anything else, more distant and as if she was talking to a stranger and her confusion only spurred her blind anger onward as he added, "But _as always_, you are most welcome."

It was definitely more of a sneer now and Robin felt some of his inner workings screaming at him with great big question marks. For this was not part of his original plan at all. He had intended only on checking on her, bringing her some tea, to coax her out...

But he was upset—even angry—before he even _began_ to make that tea and he realized the mistake of it all now. He should've just kept away, but now it was too late to reverse it all...

"Look, just come out for an hour now. The others are too distracted with your unusual behavior," the boy wonder all but demanded, his voice square with his best imitation of Raven's emotionless mask. That hurt her and it angered her and she could not decide which it did more.

"I'm not doing anything I don't want to and don't you dare think you can order me to! This isn't _just_ my fault. You _know_ I can't express my feelings the same way! _You_ of all people, you know Robin...you know. And you still..."she sputtered into an edgy quiet before seeming to regain her fire, "You're the leader of the titans, not my personal dictator!" she nearly yelled, but contained it just barely. Yelling, she thought, was better than crying at least.

"I came in here to try and fix everything," he gestured wildly, both fed up and at his wit's end. "Raven I didn't mean to order your subservience, I just...I don't know," he lost his steam, a loud sigh blistering the thick air.

"Get out."

"Raven..."

"GET OUT!" black energy flared around in every direction thinkable, and some not thinkable at all, but still he did not leave.

"Raven calm down! You're going to blow up the whole tower!" Robin exclaimed worriedly, approaching her with measured but constant strides.

"You're impossible! I said _leave_!" she cried out and went to do something she normally would never do: slap him. He caught her wrist.

She seethed.

He glared.

She glared.

They both held the silence as the black energy melted into nothing.

And then:

"I wouldn't be impossible if you'd stop being heinous about the whole issue and just try and act normal!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and while Raven seemed to keep her powers under check, her eyes flashed with hurt and more anger.

"Well, _Richard_," his name was ice on her lips, "I am not 'normal' but being 'heinous' seems to be very _normal_, since a certain masked member of this team is being so right now. So, I think I shall continue to act as heinously as I like, if it's all the same to you."

"It might as well be," Robin muttered and dropped her wrist like a stone, a deep cold sweeping through his body as he stormed out of her room. His voice seeped back into her room once more, "Just get yourself together, Raven and I'll do what I have to. The team needs you." And he was gone.

If he'd turned around, he would have seen Raven's own mask drop to reveal what could only be sadness, tinged with sordid regret.

But he didn't so much as begin to glance back.

So he never saw.

Instead, he locked himself in his researching room, the metallic clang of his door reverberating unkindly through the whole tower. Beast Boy shrunk against the couch and Cyborg shook his head while Starfire, worried, rose from the couch to inquire about their leader's well being.

Star hadn't even reached for the access key pad yet when red lights flashed and the alert was given. Stepping to one side, the green eyed girl watched as Robin emerged and stormed to the exit, no order, no anything. A quick exchange of looks and the titans followed without a word.

* * *

**More development next time. Hope this one was to a general liking! And as always, thank you so much for reading. Reviewing is secondary, as much as I adore it. When you read it, it's plenty. Reviews just let me know you did of course...heh. **

**sheepish smile**

**-rei**


	4. Chapter 3: what was that saying?

**THANK YOUS (IF I MISS ANYONE, I APOLOGIZE LOTS...I TRIED TO MAKE SURE I GOT EVERYONE, SO I JUST LOOKED UP ALL THE REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER THREE):**

Lady Sonora the Black-Rose: In a way, he gets it, but in some of the most important ways, he doesn't, as is the flaw with many great leaders. Of course, that's why he needs Raven. reminds him of everything he might not see himself.

Princess Viv: Thank you. I did my best with their argument, and while it's not dead-on, I think it came out pretty well too and it's nice to know someone else thinks so! Thank you!

Tecna: Thank you, dear! Updated.

**Gilraen Luinwe**: so I came out with three different versions of this chapter. My god. And not one of them was really quite the same so I picked the one I thought was best. One option was to have raven get in another argument with one of the titans and storm out for peace and quiet somewhere else but I thought raven going out anywhere was a little out of character, angry or not. (she usually settles for holing up in her room, like me, haha.) there was another, but it super sucked. Anyways, glad you liked that last chapter and hope you like what happens here, even though it's mostly set-up...rrrr...hehe, sometimes tedious, but necessary.

RedRover3173: thank you for the review! Glad you're still liking it.

unwellBastard: eh, I don't think Slade is the kind of character that would do that, and in any case I will not be writing him that way, so I guess I should apologize in case anyone thinks making him more civilized is not in character, but from what I've read of him and what I've actually seen, he's a bad guy with finesse and a shady background and more human qualities than anyone likes to admit to having. He's just buried them a whole lot deeper. Anyway, in short, rape is not something we need to write into this story and I won't be. There's too much of it in the real world as it is. Thank you for your comment/review and hope you enjoy this installment.

Cherry Jade: CHERRY, THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH. You are so kind in your encouragement and I hate it when they fight too but sometimes, you know them, it's gonna happen...those two birds. (shakes head) hope you like this chapter!

Final Fight: good is a good start, yes? I hope to one day be great, even if not in the proceedings of this story, but that would be nice too. Thank you for reviewing. I really appreciate it.

chiclet2021: yeah, the thing about 'fixation' is that you've often got no choice. I pictured Slade being chained to this sort of conflict, considering his personality type. Thank you for the review!

**shadowcat2132**: ah the yelling, yes. Not so much of it in here, not that kind anyway, but hope you like this one too. Thank you for commenting!

The Sacred Heart 2: they are too stubborn not to fight, methinks. As for Slade, well, I guess we'll see, yes? Thank you for staying with the story! And, in reference to this chapter, although they are still fuming, even angry people still care about each other. That's the idea to shine through here, if indirectly.

**Allie**: sleep deprivation! Argh! I'm sorry. 4 year old? I was a bad kid haha...well, not really but didn't let my mom rest enough I think. Still not. Oy. Anyway, yes lots of R & R meanings but I adore robinxraven with quite the impressive bias and preference. Haha.

jesters pet oriole: Thank YOU for your review:D here be the next chapter.

**Dark Shadows**: Hope I got this out soon enough. I tried. (falls over, is late to work) Enjoy, hopefully and as always, thank you for reviewing. It means a lot to me.

realfanficts: Your review was very encouraging. Thank you very much! And here is the next chapter.

* * *

**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

Chapter Three: _what was that saying?_

* * *

Raven puzzled over several books, each one levitating thoughtfully to one side of her or the other, pages rustling in an undecided fashion. She was positive that there was a flaw in the plot that spanned the several large volumes, some failure to maintain the story's continuity. Somewhat preoccupied, she had been severely startled when the blaring alarm went off. Rolling her eyes, she then closed them as her hood materialized and she fazed through the building, up, up, and up...and finally out. 

Her flight had gotten somehow better after the Trigon issues settled, as had her other powers and her control; she nearly soared after the hurrying titans who had left in such haste, they hadn't stopped to send one of them to tell her.

Not that they needed to.

_A deaf person could probably hear our alarm_, she thought blandly.

So she wasn't offended that they hadn't, but she was a little more distinctly aware of a certain masked leader ignoring her as they battled a particularly juiced up Plasmus. Starfire hurled charged bolts of green at him, the occasional flare of her eyes sending pieces of him scrambling; Raven noted approvingly that the Tameranian had gotten much better with her aim and control. Beast Boy did his best to deter the lumbering monster of mush from getting near anything that might up its power supply, not really able to do much else and Robin did the same; their physical attacks just didn't cut it when Plasmus was like this. Cyborg shot at it with his lasers when Star wasn't firing at it and they seemed to be wearing him down.

About fifteen minutes later, it was evident that they were, in fact, not wearing him down and Raven scowled, tossing lampposts at him and other such large and heavy objects of impressive density.

Thirty more minutes of fighting and Raven had had quite enough.

"Azarath, Metrion, ZINTHOS!" her voice escalated with her last, trademark word as her soul self unleashed an imploding effect on the hapless Plasmus who lay sleeping a shaky sleep of the near-dead two seconds later.

"Dude, you should've just done that in the first place," Beast Boy half joked and shrugged sheepishly when she glared. "Eh, heh...of course, where's the fun in that?" he saved himself, just barely and stepped strategically behind a befuddled Starfire.

"Some of us need more practice than others," she said tonelessly.

"Hey!" Beast Boy's voice was nothing short of indignant. Cyborg scratched his head, an amused expression on his face as Starfire floated beside Robin, watching carefully. Robin made no move to say anything but strode over to the R-Cycle.

"Yo, Robin, what's with the serious face? Raven just sent Plasmus back into a coma," Cyborg prodded humorously.

"Let him be," Raven covered Robin's intent to prolong the silence smoothly and flew past the leader and the rest of the titans, holding her own stolid quiet.

She didn't get fifty feet before a throng of Slade bots appeared from seemingly nowhere, surrounding the empath...not that that made any difference to her. Irritated, Raven flew up and out of their midst, encasing them all in a black dome and heaving them harshly to the side of a building. At first sight of anything Slade related Robin had come veering up and the titans had followed him, Starfire flying faster to assist Raven, even though as it turned out, the dark girl needed no such thing.

The titans backed up against each other, Robin having put his R-cycle to the side, forming a circle as they each looked out in different directions, trying to sense anything.

Silence.

"How long has it been, titans?" a voice traveled down from the rooftop of the nearest skyscraper.

"Slade," Robin's voice was colder than winter. "I don't know what you've come for but you're not getting it. Titans, GO!"

"Nice to see I was missed," the villain commented airily and flipped neatly out of the way of a shot from Cyborg's cannon, simultaneously flinging one of his many gadgets at the technologically inclined teen. Cyborg was unhappily reminded of Gizmo as the gadget seemed to attach itself to his system, inciting short-circuit.

While he tried to rid himself of it, Beast Boy launched himself at the practiced foe, only to be netted by some strange combination of what seemed to be normal rope and then turned into a synthetic, black sinew that glowed like fire when he struggled. He settled for growling venomously. Robin meanwhile, seethed. Slade had, as most renowned villains might, apparently studied Robin's own technique in bringing down the titans from his days as Red X and altered them to his own liking. Once again Robin's obsession, his blindness had brought on an unfair advantage and the boy wonder charged at the sneering mask of Slade, all his anger not directed at the man alone, but at himself.

Starfire aided him as best she could without hitting Robin himself, but being cautious she could only fire around Slade to hopefully make him dance to a pattern that would make it easier to subdue him. As it was, to her chagrin, Slade seemed hardly phased by her attacks, if at all. His agility seemed better, if possible, and as always his mind was sharper than sharp...he seemed one step ahead of them every time.

Robin delivered a fierce kick into the Slade's chest and then a hard hit to the villain's side with his staff, scowling darkly all the time. Nothing seemed to get past his opponent, but Raven was still active and when she encased Slade in black light Robin forged onward, pummeling him without reserve.

Raven dropped Slade without a thought, glaring her own darkness at the man who had caused so much grief for the titans, glaring because it hid her concealed fear of him. Her last encounter with that man had been all but pleasant, and the one before that, and the one before that...okay that was old, but the pattern resounded something awful.

To her vexation, she only heard his vacant laugh.

"A nice welcome as always, titans. But you wound me...I see no warming gift," Slade said, mockery evident as he pulled himself up off the ground with an unnatural grace, like a snake with slit eyes and primitive instinct.

"It's not like you bought a new house or something," Raven muttered irately. Slade chuckled and, thinking him distracted, Starfire lunged at him, caught off guard when Slade reached out a hand and sent her flying backward into a building.

Apparently he hadn't been quite distracted enough.

"Star!" Robin yelled and rushed to her. Raven cringed inwardly and then scolded herself; Starfire was just hurt and instead of concern, jealousy was flapping its oddly colored cape at her like a banner.

Sometimes she disgusted herself.

A moment of combined self-pity and self-loathing was all Slade needed to catch her unawares.

He had watched as the empath's eyes clouded with hurt at Robin's impulse and then anger at herself, of all things. He had watched as she observed Robin cradle a limp Starfire who—to Raven's relief—stirred slightly with a groan belying the alien girl's pain. To his amusement, Raven lifted her hands and in a moment Starfire's wounds seemed to emanate a white light before disappearing. Apparently in his absence the empath had learned to heal at a distance...or had she always been able? He didn't really care, on second thought.

The Tameranian's gaze met Raven's and offered a smile that turned sour and frightened with an abruptness the dark girl would have questioned if Robin hadn't shouted a warning and directly following his yell, a hard hand had not clamped itself just barely on her shoulder.

She would not flinch. She would not show him he scared her. She would not yield...

"Dear Raven, it has been far too long," he said and Raven forced down the shudder that threatened to rip through her as his other hand rested itself, equally as gently, on her other shoulder. His eyes burned into her where she could not see, but sensed and she resisted the urge to grip her cloak closer to her. _Be calm_, she told herself adamantly, doggedly, desperately, seeming to have forgotten the ability to move beyond her mind at all.

_Nothing to fear but fear itself_, she reminded her brain stubbornly.

"Don't touch her!" Robin ordered coldly, leaving Starfire to situate herself as she was healed now but not quite stable. Slade smiled, his visible eye tearing into Robin with a cruelty that only the darkest of satisfactions could rouse.

"Of the two of us, Robin, you are not the one who gives orders," Slade answered unworriedly, alluding to the failed, but intriguing apprenticeship and he noted with pleasure how Robin's spine went rigid at the mere mention of it. "Though I admit you did follow them admirably for a time, I've been thinking of putting someone else through a test trial." His cold hands gripped Raven without reservation now and she thought her shoulders might break under the pressure. She winced and cursed herself for doing so; she knew he had seen her reaction; she could feel his satisfaction without even seeing his face. Looking up, pointedly not at Slade, she witnessed anger and hate and pain and longing and fear flash through Robin's features, even with the mask and.

She would have been touched if she wasn't still pissed at him, which regardless of her current predicament, she most definitely was. Remembering this, she used her irritation to fuel her anger and attempted to break free of Slade's grip with renewed vigor.

"Let her go, Slade! You can't use her to get at us, at me," he lied as his chest tightened at the sight of Raven in the madman's possession once more. He had said he would protect her. He had said he wouldn't let Slade near her. Seeing Raven's face warp in a moment of pain when Slade grasped her shoulders even more tightly when she tried to get away, his heart fell.

He had told her he wouldn't let that man hurt her.

_What was that saying? _Don't go making promises you can't keep? Robin repressed a bitter laugh and was brought back to attention by the voice he hated most.

"I don't like to repeat the mistakes of my inferiors," Slade replied with an insidious quiet and Robin froze. What did he mean?

"What?" it was not a whisper, not a yell...just an ominous question the leader almost feared to ask.

"You don't seem to realize, dear Robin," Slade accentuated Robin's name with his signature false sweetness, "That this _isn't_ about you anymore," Slade paused, "And as easy as it would be if it were about you, our past relationship has shown me that you are not quite dark enough for me, tragic past aside." His voice was completely dismissive of what he referred to Robin's blood chilled as unbidden images of his mother and father falling...always falling...rushed into his mind.

He couldn't do anything for them... he couldn't stop it from happening...his eyes went to Raven, still held by loathsome metal encased hands...he couldn't do anything for her...

His mind reeled with Slade's well fired barb.

Raven twisted in pure fury. _How dare he?_ She could feel and see Robin's mind, and because of the disturbing stab at his psyche she could also see some of his heart and as his pain became hers, she turned to glare darkly up at Slade—her subjugator and his attacker.

"Release me if you want to see tomorrow," she all but growled.

To her annoyance, he lowered his masked face to a stoic hers and he ignored her command and continued from his previous statement, "But you, Raven. You have great potential..._What was that saying?_ Birds of a feather flock together?"

"There's a difference between a birds and a monster," she said icily.

"But not much difference between a monster and a demon," he returned smoothly. It was Raven's turn to feel her mental walls start to crack. Her heritage was still something she tried to hide from, even after the vanquishing of her father. His absence didn't mean she wasn't still part devil, part evil, and she tried to hide it away between pages of books but here it was, thrust at her like a hot poker. She shied away, her resistance to him ceasing as she became stock still at his words.

"She is nothing like you!" Robin yelled, snapping out of his unwanted break in focus, and ran at them, flipping over Slade's side to deliver a kick that sent the man skidding backward—still on his feet. It had the desired effect though. Raven was, for the time, free. "Raven get back here," he pointed behind him. The dark girl floated wordlessly behind him, trying her best to not let the villain's words eat away at her as she knew he intended for them to. It helped when she was jolted into helping as Starfire—though recently healed, still wanting to assist—rushed to his aid. They seemed to be beating him down and, feeling the upper hand, Robin ordered Star and Raven to try and help Beast Boy and Cyborg while he continued to duel with his worst enemy yet

Aside, of course, from himself.

"She is beyond your protection, ex-apprentice," Slade taunted as he evaded Robin's next attacks with an insufferable smugness. His movements were fluid and painstakingly honed, almost graceful. "You don't seem to be getting on well in any case." That last one infuriated Robin just that much more. His personal hatred for Slade was pinpointed this time to a keen dislike of the Hellish man's severely tuned observational skills. He almost got a punch in that time.

"What exactly do you want Slade? The end has come and gone, so what could you possibly want now?" Robin demanded, finally landing a kick squarely on Slade's chest. To the boy wonder's disappointment, his enemy merely flipped backward with the force of the kick, not making a single sound as he recoiled from the attack, continuing their conversation as if they were discussing something civilized over a cup of tea.

"I want what you want," he spoke ever in riddles and Robin was about to prod him about that particular morsel of vague information when Slade clarified it for him by adding coolly, "Besides what do you think _you_ could ever offer her?"

"You bastard," Robin felt realization dawn and his glare became colder, more distant, and less human. This stranger in Robin reminded Slade of the potential he had once seen in him, but instead of dread, Slade only felt enthused by the new face the caped hero wore. Robin squared his stance with an unreadable stare, very different from his angry one or his concerned or desperate one. This was a mask of a whole other sort. His breath was a deadly whisper. "Touch her and I swear I'll kill you." And with another shout, he went at Slade again who this time had only a second to block. His smile was grudging; the boy wonder had gotten considerably stronger and anger was the very best fuel.

He would know.

They exchanged punches and kicks, each as skilled as the other. If one swiped the other ducked and when one jumped the other lunged...they were a blur of movement, almost indistinguishable from each other.

Not ten feet away, Beast Boy rubbed his head ruefully.

"Dude, concrete is not a good pillow," he remarked as Cyborg yelped while Raven detached the debilitating device on him. All free, the titans set to helping Robin but were forced back by what looked like an army of Slade bots.

"Okay when did they get here?" Cyborg asked no one in particular as he fired a major beam cannon their general direction.

"Does it matter?" Raven deadpanned and flew out over them, throwing some into each other and knocking others into sides of buildings until they fell apart, bits and pieces clanking about noisily. Beast Boy shrugged as if to say no, it didn't really matter and sprang into the fray as a T-Rex.

"Well I've enjoyed this as much as you have Robin, but I've a simply tearing engagement to attend to," Slade laughed with his words and before Robin could stop him, Slade flipped into the midst of the Slade bots. Thinking he had used them as a cover to leave completely, Robin was taken aback when the masked man shot up out of the countless bots to snatch Raven from flight, arm closing firmly around her waist.

"Let go of me!" Raven seethed and twisted in vain.

Slade only held her tighter.

There was that struggle he liked.

"Rest your wings Raven," Slade whispered into her ear in such a way that made her freeze. Robin noticed this and flinched as if Slade had hit him with a car, and almost wished he had.

"Titans, get him!" Robin didn't even give the 'go' signal before using his staff to launch himself up at Slade and Raven, shooting a grappling hook up to clutch the nearest rim of a building as he swung toward them.

"What's yours is mine. Until next time, titans," Slade menaced them with many strange discs that flew and not only blinded them in the next explosion but one hit Robin dead on. Raven saw him start to fall and panicked, struggled and then remembering her position closed her eyes and concentrated hard on lowering him safely to the ground. "I don't think so, my little bird," Slade's voice was a distant murmur to her as she ignored him and kept focusing stubbornly on Robin...

Something sharp stabbed her arm. She winced, opening her eyes to find her captor idly twirling a small injection gun. Her heart skipped a beat fearfully. What had he just put into her?

Poison? A disease? What?

Her head started to get muddy and her vision blurred, making her lose complete control of saving Robin who, luckily was swept up by a barely recovering Starfire.

_A drug then_, she realized and the last thing she was aware of was a strange sense of vertigo, like moving through liquid air—if that made any sense—and it was very cold. That was all she knew before darkness consumed her entirely.

* * *

**What think you, readers? Again, thank you for keeping with the story. **


	5. Chapter 4: impossible

Disclaimer: don't own teen titans, because life's not fair and all that. Haha. --

* * *

**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

Chapter Four: impossible

* * *

The last time he had watched her it had been as she pensively paced the top of a T shaped tower. The last time he had watched her it had been in secret. The last time he had watched her he had felt himself burn with self-loathing at his weakness, his obsession.

But as he watched her now, he found something far worse than self deprecation or any absence of iron will; he found fear as she hovered in the quiet of a whitewashed room, her body working to expel the drug he had given her hours before. It wasn't fear for her safety, or fear for what he had done, but fear for the shortsightedness of his plans.

_What now?_

His thoughts had difficulty moving beyond that question and he continued to watch the comatose sorceress. Raven's mouth moved but her voice got caught in the silence, a mumble that died on unconscious lips before Slade could understand.

With some trepidation, the masked man drew himself closer to the dark girl. His threat of a new apprentice had been, while a stroke of spontaneous genius, empty beyond infuriating the dear Robin, which it had. And now that it had served its intended purpose, Slade had no idea what lay beyond the frame of his words. It would take much breaking to get Raven to even consider such a thing.

In fact, if she did, it probably would end up something like Terra's.

Slade grimaced.

No, probably worse. Much worse.

All in all, it was out of the question and he told himself assuredly that he didn't have time for such a tedious task anyway. He told himself what he had been telling himself since he arrived at the lair and brought her to one of the many empty rooms. He told himself to sate his eccentric bird complex and be done with her, whatever that might entail.

His mask stifled him suddenly and thinking nothing of it, he removed it, setting it on the side table with unexpected care. A mask was a symbol; behind it lay a thousand moments of troubled youth and heartbreaking disaster; behind it was another kind of man. So mostly, he kept the creepy thing on, and yes, he admitted its creepiness without reserve. He wasn't an idiot after all; that was by most surface meanings, the idea of a mask anyway: to intimidate with pretense. Unfortunately, eventually that mask became more than a barrier between reality and desired-reality. Not just for him either. Not all masks were made of indestructible metal alloys after all.

Some changed faces or shapes while others wore ridiculously outlandish get-ups, and some simply covered their eyes because they believed that those soulful windows gave away the most.

Some wore shadows.

He himself had worn many disguises—an old man with cleverly created magic, a faceless being in the night, the man who sat next to a woman of sixty-five on a subway with nothing more conspicuous about him than the next passenger who stepped on the train. Slade had been many people.

Sometimes, he lost count of who he had been and who he had become. The only constants were of his two worlds: the mask, his outer shell, and the face beneath, what was left of his inner self—not much. No one outside of himself knew his real age, or origin, not even his hair color. The only thing a person might be certain of was the steely blue of his pale eyes, usually overridden by the blacks of his pupils. Even he second guessed who he saw in the mirror, that is when he actually took time to look in one, which wasn't often.

His inward gaze turned outward again.

_What to do_, he pondered idly again. Not that he would admit it to anyone, but the typical kind of release for what he felt concerning the empath was not his style. The typical way was what his body told him it wanted and what his mind, in response, tersely rejected. The typical way was base and so weak it was human.

Slade did not 'do' human anymore as Raven would have put it. It had been too long for him to disregard the odd wisdom that came with years of fighting—no matter whose side one was on—and losing and winning and death and life and all those other things that were supposed to add up to something more than that.

So while he knew he had to do _something_, he knew also what he would not do and again he found himself eyeing Raven with anger. Anger was much easier to deal with than turmoil or vexation after all.

"Robin..." it was a mumble again but he heard it this time and his eyes narrowed as his animosity toward the girl and the feelings she stirred in him increased tenfold. Robin's breakaway from him had been hardly the upset one would have thought, but it still brought back sorely miscalculated plans and the like. Slade did not appreciate being reminded that he made mistakes at all, much less ones he had already made. His crossed arms tightened in an irate fashion as he considered his next possible course of action with renewed strength.

"...boy blunder," another phrase emptied out of her dry lips. This one elicited a very slight smile from her captor. Okay, maybe he agreed with that one. Realization of what he was thinking, what he was doing hit him and he pressed his lips into the thin line of the expressionless surface he coveted. He steered his mind forcibly in the direction once again of what he ought to do next.

But before he came to a decision, Raven stirred again and this time her eyes fluttered open...scratch that. Raven's eyes pulled themselves open with much difficulty, blinking as though to drag herself out of her unconscious stupor whether her body was ready for it or not. She shifted again and appeared to prop herself up, if a little dopily.

Her intake of breath was a decidedly sharp one as her eyes fell upon a mask that was just resettling itself over one visible eye the color of December ice, filled with ebony night.

Slade repressed a sigh of relief. He had just barely gotten the cover back over his face when her glance had chanced his way.

They sized each other up, Raven floating to the furthest corner adjacent to him, Slade staying right where he was. After a moment's consideration, giving no inclination as to what her thoughts were on her current predicament, Raven crossed her legs and began to mediate.

_That's...interesting_, Slade thought, both intrigued and perplexed by her choice of action.

The cot he had rested her over exploded furiously and Slade bit his tongue to keep back the exclamation of surprise a person like him should be beyond showing.

_Ah_, he understood. She was, of course, angry.

He said nothing to her silence and after an undetermined amount of time Raven cracked one eye open suspiciously.

"What?" she inquired, deciding simplicity had its benefits after some deliberation.

"...is an impartially vague question," he replied. An answer that would have pushed Robin's buttons with ease did not bother her at all, on the outside, it seemed as she nodded and closed that one eye. It occurred to him that she mocked his own single eye but brushed it off. He waited a few moments longer before standing and crossing over to her with calm, even strides. If she sensed him near her—and he was certain she did—she gave no sign. "I suppose you have little interest in your reason for being here," he drawled.

"Little," she repeated blandly.

"As I thought," Slade's response fell like a bridge between the two.

"_You_ 'think'?" Raven queried, her tone dripping with emphasized disbelief.

"More often than I care to detail," he never missed a beat and Raven began to feel the edges of annoyance. He was using his own calm do get her to break hers.

_Not happening_, she thought darkly.

"Must be hard on your system, doing something that you're not accustomed to," Raven's taunting finally hit on a nerve or maybe just on Slade's inability to categorize his obsession with her. His easy expression became cold and opening her eyes, Raven took it in like a whisper of death.

"Must be hard to know it is unlikely that you will ever see your fellow titans again," Slade said with his trademark coldness.

"I am unconcerned," she lied.

"Your lies are wastes of air," his voice echoed in the room strangely.

"So are yours," she returned, eyes burning at him in a way he thought remarkably contained.

"I have yet to lie to you," Slade said, every bit of it the truth.

"But you will," Raven was certain. At this Slade arched a brow behind his mask, not that she could see, and turned his head to one side as if to say something without saying it at all.

"Oh really?" was what he finally said. Her lips formed the familiar lines of displeasure and she gave a faint jerk of her head to indicate a 'yes.'

He challenged her with a stare.

She accepted.

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Tap...tap...tap...tap, tap, tap, tap...

He stopped his incessant typing and stared into nothingness, lost to it for a breath's span.

Robin shut his eyes against the ineffective search. There had not been a moment since the titans dragged themselves home, battered and bruised, that he had not been at this task, and nothing.

He had found nothing.

It occurred to him that the way to go about this might be a way he and Raven had actually used once, before the titans true formation—ask around. But what man or woman—villain or not—in his or her right mind would tell him where Slade was? And on a more accurate note, who would know such a thing anyway?

No amount of intimidation or threat could elicit what was not known.

A sharp rap on the metal door broke his train of thought.

"What?" he didn't mean to be irritated; he never did, but his one-track mind did not appreciate being deterred and he was beyond the point of roping in his lashing emotions.

"Friend Robin," Starfire sounded tired and an instant hit of guilt festered in him. He pulled himself to his feet and opened the door.

"Do you need something?" he asked, a little kinder this time. Starfire's tired and drawn look contrasted severely with her usually bright coloring and animated ways and it occurred to him that the others had been doing their own things, their own tactics, their own ways of trying to find the missing empath. He cursed himself.

A leader did not let his team dissolve for the loss of one.

_Loss?_

His eyes turned to slits behind his mask. No. She was not lost. Not ever.

He would never let Raven be lost, not at the end of the world, and definitely not now.

A delicate cough from the Tameranian reminded him he needed to be present.

"Friend Robin, friends Cyborg and Beast Boy sent me to remind you that although the searching for friend Raven is of most importance, your assistance will be most hindered if you become buried in six feet of earthen grime," she said dutifully and worried that she might become the new target for the anger she could feel rolling about inside him, flew off toward the kitchen area. Now, Robin was pretty much used to Star's interesting turn of phrase on the usual turn of phrase, but this one took him a moment before he let out a begrudging, hollow laugh. She had meant six feet under, of course.

"Titans," he nodded at them as he strode into the main area, face unreadable and unreachable.

"Find anything?" Cyborg asked, daring to hope. Robin shook his head and felt the anxiety rise around him, full force from the other three occupants of the room. He sighed.

"I think we need to go back to where we last encountered Slade," Robin worded this carefully, very finite about not mentioning the obvious. No one needed a reminder of t he awful truth. "That is the only feasible location I can think of that would render any useful hints as to where he is or where he is going." The other titans eyed him, Cyborg with a calculating look, Beast Boy with an uncharacteristically quiet agreement, and Starfire with the first flecks of hope in her eyes that they had seen in days.

"When do we leave?" Beast Boy asked, arms crossed around him tightly.

"Have you all rested?" It was a stupid question, Robin realized with no small amount of rue and sighed his millionth sigh. "I guess none of us have. Let's go."

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She watched him while he watched her. Her head shifted slightly, causing some noncompliant strands of hair to curtain her eyes, but her stare never wavered. He sighed impatiently, about to simply do something that would shake a reaction out of her when she beat him to it.

"You really suck at this," Raven said. Slade chuckled at her blunt disregard for her situation.

"So eloquent today," he verbally jabbed and Raven's eyes shot sparks at him.

"It's easy when compared with you," and she knew she was lying. That was the thing about Slade, always so full of finesse and flair that by all natural accounts such an apparently heartless being should not possess. He not only moved with grace but spoke with it and it belied some of his past that no one had known for a very long time.

"I would recite some poetry to help sway your mind, but something tells me the efforts would be, I dare say, unappreciated," his tone was infuriatingly calm, mixed with that lining of amusement that made Raven glad she wasn't Robin. He would have been in an all out fight already.

Unfortunately this turned her thoughts to her fellow bird and without noticing, her hard gaze dropped from Slade's cool one and she lost the contest.

_Robin._

The last words they had exchanged had been harsh ones, unfair ones...they had not been the kind of words she would have said had she known where she would end up. But neither had known and both had yelled and raged and hurt.

_And now?_

She bit her lower lip, out of anger, out of frustration and guilt at the thought of Robin falling, her unable to save him, and now not even certain if he was...

Raven shook the thought away, reminding herself of their bond and pressed her mind to seek him out. And while she could not do anything beyond ascertaining he lived, that was enough for now.

That didn't change the anxious feeling that had settled over her, however.

Slade knew the look of guilt well and surmised wisely what the teen might be contemplating.

"Little bird," he began and was proud of the ice he managed to inject into his beginning. "I should like to move you to a different cage." This was true. The bed having been effectively blown up was not the only reason. He had another room for her, something a little more accommodating. "Surely you—"

"Let me out," she interrupted him and he suspected her voice of breaking. Raven heard it too and dourly forced a controlled Rage to take focus, shaking Timid off impatiently and casting a loathing glance at Fear who wrapped itself in nothing, taking Robin's image in her mind along with her.

Slade's voice interrupted her mental clean-up.

"No," his answer came in flat tones, eyes narrowing. He did not like being ordered and she was in no place to do so.

Still, he couldn't say he was surprised when she persisted.

"Let me out!" she repeated crossly and as her eyes glowed white, the light in the room flickered and exploded, leaving the two in utter darkness. There was a moment of nothing and then her ears detected a drumming noise, one of fingers that tapped one after another in an audible domino effect, over and over.

"That was fun," Slade commented dryly. "Worried about dear Robin, I gather."

"Die," Raven said in barely contained animosity.

"I'd prefer not to," his voice traveled all around her in a disconcerting way through the darkness.

There was a sigh after a few minutes.

"Why am I here, Slade?"

Realizing he still didn't quite know the answer to that himself, Slade gave one of his easily irritating and completely useless answers: "That's a secret." And he walked out of a door Raven couldn't even see, presumably his quick access of it due to his memory since the room was still pitch black once the door shut behind him with a loud click.

His voice surrounded her and Raven had the sinking feeling claustrophobia was not all about closed in spaces.

"Since you seem to like the dark so much, I'll let you two have some alone time," his words cut around her like sword swipes and she bit back an involuntary hiss.

"Slade!" she yelled, wishing dearly that there was something else to destroy in the room other than herself. "SLADE!"

No answer.

Teeth clenched in a fashion that suggested she didn't trust herself not to lose what was left of her control and spout a combination of swearing and incendiary spells that would burn her up no doubt, she felt along the walls to a corner and slumped to the ground. There was no sound. There was no distinct smell. And of course there was no light, and it occurred to Raven that somehow the initial darkness seemed to have gotten a little bit darker.

_Leave it to Slade_, she thought in abject cynicism as she pulled her cloak to her, the only thing between her and a cold that didn't come from the metal floor.

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Slade's form lounged rigidly in a chair facing one of his many observational screens.

Perhaps leaving dark girl in the dark would make her a little less...willful.

Perhaps not.

He removed his mask for the second time that day and massaged his temples thoughtfully. The girl, the girl, the girl...what to do with the girl? The frown he wore only increased as he further contemplated his options, of which there were many but as usual, few appealed to his incredibly exacting standards.

Of course, it was his standards that set him apart from other villains, made him better.

Made him stronger.

And he would not yield them for anything, obsession or not.

He punched in empath and several colored screens flashed upon the digital squares in front of him, each of the titans, each with whatever status notes he had ever been able to observe, dig up or glean from them otherwise.

Robin's list of details was without exception the most impressive.

Some of what Slade knew of the bird came from simply knowing himself—one of the most dangerous things of all, if anyone asked him—and others came from the weaknesses the titans' leader had exposed—on occasion—through his words or actions. Several key facts had been learned during Robin's brief, if entertaining apprenticeship. Others had come of indirect manipulations on the team as a whole, and the most recent tidbits of information had come from working with the masked boy before the defeat of Trigon.

Slade glowered.

A servant, he was not and there was some immense amount of satisfaction that came with heaving a flaming sharp object at the king of demons and hearing his roar of pain. That had been rewarding to say the least and in retrospect, he rather found himself agreeing with how things had turned out. Getting his flesh and blood back himself had been an intense exercise and triumph for him, so dangerously on the edge between life and what was not quite death, but not life either, and as such, much worse.

It seemed demons had a way of creating problems for him though, he had to admit, as he considered once more the given circumstances. He had the girl and setting aside the fact that she could probably blow him to the ends of the universe or worse if she got particularly enraged, she was at his mercy.

Okay, not much, but she was on his turf and to be fair, he had considered her abilities before going into such a strange endeavor. He was Slade after all, not stupid or shortsighted, not usually anyway. The room she was in now and the one he had intended for her were both proofed from her fazing ability and would contain her powers. The theory was that if she thought the only two rooms she was exposed to contained her powers, she wouldn't conceive that the others were weak in normal foundation with no protective barrier against her demonic heritage and its power.

It was a decent theory, if not full-proof.

"Hmmm..." he tapped his fingers idly again, the metallic drum making a pattering sound like rainwater as he scanned the titans' stats and one of the first pleasing ideas he had had in a long time came upon him.

Letting what was left of his more human side sink beneath the eaves of the past he had worked hard to leave behind, he let his comparatively inhuman side take over now, seeing that as the only way to get something out of what would otherwise be an insane waste of effort and time.

Slade did not believe in wasting what could be so effectively...manipulated.

If anyone had been there, they would have shuddered but only a darkness minutely lighter than that of the one encumbering the caged Raven in the other room played companion to the masked villain. So his sinister demeanor went unnoticed but for the shadows flickering on the walls around him.

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A couple hours later he entered the code to the room that held his newest acquirement.

Raven flinched at the sight of him, thoroughly pissed.

"Azarath, metrion, zinthos!" Slade found satisfaction in her look of realization when nothing happened.

"Play nice little bird. I've plans for you," he placated her as he approached and Raven, on impulse, made a mad dash for the still open door behind him. A stupid_—very stupid—_ idea, she would admit later to herself, but the only one she had at the time, faced with her lack of her usual powers. She wondered briefly why the same containment effect had not worked when she had blown up the cot out of rage earlier and figured it was more to do with what she did intentionally than by accident, regardless of how accurate. The light brushed her eyes only for a moment before Slade's disturbingly familiar grip immobilized her.

"What makes you even dare to think you can use me?" she challenged, her tone both bolder and more idiotically courageous than she felt as his gloved fingers pushed unkindly into the flesh of her arms where bruises would surely surface later.

"What makes you dream to think you have a choice?" he continued to use that lethal whisper and her eyes betrayed her as they widened in combined shock and horror as he revealed something in the palm of his hand.

"No," she gasped. Her voice was so quiet Slade would not have heard it if he had not been listening specifically for it, which he was. Her mind reeled.

_It is impossible, surely..._she tried to convince herself.

But one look into Slade's winter blue eye told her another story and for the first time since she had been there, Raven felt the unnerving clutch of hopelessness.

He lowered his head to a point where his breath grazed her ear and Raven's spine went rigid with unsettlement and something akin to fear. Something about Slade's behavior was not entirely vicious the way she had expected. In fact, it seemed to have an almost seductive undertone...

_Seductive? Yeah right. That's the reason behind this whole fiasco. _Raven thought with renewed skepticism and sarcasm alike, distracted enough by what she believed to be the most absurd of thinking to the point of carelessly rolling her eyes. _It's Slade._ _Of all the ridiculous notions this one so takes the cake...preposterous! _And, for the second time, she also found herself thinking: _impossible. _Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as she was jolted out of them, feeling the warmth of his breath, even through the mask, on her nape.

"Such insolence will not be tolerated," he warned, alluding to her roll of eyes, and somehow he managed to have the door clang shut, immersing them in a dissimilar blindness once more.

"How did you get that?" she asked questions to cover the chill sweeping through her, not having to see what he held in his palm again to know what it was.

"I have my ways," he replied vaguely and Raven had the impression of being smothered from nowhere. His hands were still clamped decidedly around her arms, but it felt like some form of something was pressing all her passageways shut, and she fought for air until she started to feel herself slipping into the solitary dark of unconsciousness.

Slade felt her body go limp.

"I knew you'd see things my way."

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**Thank you for the reviews! I have just been told that I am not allowed to personally respond to reviewers which upsets me because I feel you all deserve AT LEAST a personal thank you. I don't understand frankly. However, until I found out a reliable source saying otherwise, I must follow the advice and give a universal show of gratitude to you for supporting the story.**

**x A MILLION BAJILLION AND LOTS MORE**

**Okay, that completely lacks eloquence but that is how I feel every time I get a kind word or two of encouragement, all of which you have all given to me generously.**

**Again, thank you and hope this chapter wasn't too boring. The next will have more distinct events with any luck, and clarified causes, effects and revelation of the object, and focus more on Robin's side. I understand that in this part he and the others were hardly more than a necessary supplement for what was going on, on their side and not quite substantial. I hope to remedy that next time.**

**As always, review if you have the time but if not, I am glad you have dropped in on this fic and hope you enjoy it somewhat.**

**-rei **


	6. Chapter 5: no answers

Thank you for waiting and for sending me encouraging reviews all the way.  
Disclaimer? I don't own teen titans, sadly.

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**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

_Chapter five: no answers_

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The four titans shared looks.

Nothing.

Not a damn thing.

They had searched for hours and drawn unnecessary attentions from the press until Robin, pulling a magnificent Raven impression, scared them all away with a few harsh words and an uncharacteristically ferocious glare. Beast Boy kicked a larger piece of rubble with the toe of his shoe, a somber look on his face and Starfire floated warily, as though suspicious of being watched. Cyborg scanned the area yet again with his mechanically enhanced and substitute eye to get the same blank, normal readings he had been getting since they got there and Robin paced, gripped with a touch of madness that was beginning to scare the other three.

It reminded them of...

Well, never mind what it reminded them of.

They all felt the same as they watched the lines of discontent and pent up frustration become more and more set on their leader's face, all the while searching the places they had already looked a thousand times...just to avoid his misdirected wrath.

The sun began to set.

"Robin," Cyborg started, ready to risk a bit of his leader's rage for the betterment of the rest of the team, as always, but Robin held a hand to silence him.

"I know. Let's go back," Robin relented and the others—though surprised—had the insight not to let out their relief in a collective sigh, letting well enough alone. Just as Robin swung a leg over the R-Cycle, he halted. Starfire shot in inquiring glance at him.

Tk. Tk. Tk.

Tk. Tk. Tk...

"TITANS, GET DOWN!" And everything burst into flame with a crashing noise—presumably part of a building, but one could never be too sure about a bomb. Having heeded Robin's warning, none were too badly scathed and the four formed a circle, backs to each other in defensive mode. The fire was everywhere and they could hear civilian screams and catch sight of figures running in every direction that could be described as 'away' from the explosion.

"What the Hell..." Robin muttered and Beast Boy and Cyborg's faces mimicked the question while Starfire settled for intense worry for anyone around that might have been hurt. There was another noise then, one of metal gears and wires and hinging...and the titans were met with Slade bots once more, to be precise: what seemed like a sizable army of them walking through the fire's core.

"Hell is right," Beast Boy spat and immediately took the form of a T-Rex, swiping nearly the entire first line of bots into an uneven heap of steel and alloy. With a shared yell the others split into action.

They fought and fought hard as bot by bot seemed to keep on coming until one gigantic boom later, stars littering the sky, the last one fell in a smoking pile of disconnected parts.

"So..." Cyborg trailed off, question hanging between all of them.

What was _that_?

No momentous reappearance by Slade, no lesser but troublesome crony like Cinderblock or Plasmus, nothing...The four titans turned to leave.

A creaking was heard five feet away.

They each jumped about a foot each except for Starfire who, already floating, did much the opposite, falling in a startled heap onto the ground. Caution as their guide, they approached the source of the sound...

"A bot?" Beast Boy's tone was quizzical.

It looked rather entirely destroyed...but wait.

A flicker of light fizzled through, and something shot out of its remaining center:

"Titans," greeted the expressionless man.

"Give her back!" Robin shook the metal box like a man possessed. Cyborg grabbed it from him quickly.

"Yo, Robin man! Cool it. You're going to break it," the metal man warned.

"Smart friend you have there Robin, but why the anger? Oh wait, I know," Slade disappeared from the screen for a moment and there flickered an image that both lifted Robin and broke him.

It lifted him to be able to see her again.

It broke him to see her as she was.

Raven lay on the floor of somewhere so indistinct it seemed unnatural, her body unusually fragile looking and misleadingly motionless. Her petite frame looked uncomfortable in the twisted position she lay in, as though she had been thrown like a rag doll against a wall, let fall, and left to die.

But she could not be dead. Not one of her teammates would even consider it.

Some of her silken hair fell limply across her closed eyes and the four teens strained to see some sign of breath from her pale lips, a rise of her chest however slight, any indication of life.

Nothing.

They told themselves the screen was too small to allow them such examination and that surely that was why they could not detect any of those things. They were painfully logical about it.

They had to be.

Slade reappeared then to find Robin's face emotionless and tense.

"Still want her back?" his question insinuated what none of them would believe to be true. Without waiting for an answer that probably would not come, the screen fizzled and then snapped to black.

Beast Boy leapt at it, trying to shake the bot to see if the connection had just been interfered with and stepped back when he realized it was entirely intentional, eyes downcast. Cyborg's fists tightened—if possible—and he said nothing, ever the rock of quiet in the kinds of situations that involved Raven, who he regarded as not quite a little sister, but definitely family; it was a testament to his composure that he did not break something, which he could have easily done.

Robin stared as though he was dead himself.

Oddly or not oddly enough, Starfire's reaction was the most volatile. The distressed Tameranian cried out in fury and her eyes glowed their wide, bright green as she blasted the already dead bot to smithereens, outraged. Whether anyone took notice of it or not, she and the empath were closer than a person might think, closer than the press cared to detail about because they would far rather cling to the stereotype of bubbly and shadowy not mixing.

After having switched bodies, they had begun their first real links of friendship and that having been so long ago, the girls were, while not an orthodox pair, a definite duo of what one could call good friends. And so it was that Starfire, after releasing her initial anger on the bot, whimpered softly and her eyes welled. After allowing herself a couple moments of tearing sadness, the Tameranian steeled her will back together as best she could and turned to look at the boy wonder.

He continued to stand there, eyeing the bot as though he expected it to come back to life, put itself back together and attack—or worse, like he expected it to transform into Slade himself.

Starfire laid a hand on Robin's shoulder softly, fully aware of the overly agitated state her leader was in and the softness was not all for Raven's safety in that moment. It was for his too. She had seen her leader, their leader, obsessive and with or without hallucinogenic dust, he could become borderline insane sometimes. And she worried.

They all did.

"Robin," she paused, voice breaking, "What are we to do?"

He wished he had an answer but could only continue to stare vacantly, emptily...hopelessly.

_Rae, where are you?_ He called out to her with his mind and had not the heart to tell his fellow titans that he did not receive so much as an affirmation that he and the empath were still bonded at all.

There was nothing, and more nothing.

He knew what that probably meant, but refused to believe it.

"Robin?" Starfire dropped her customary precedent of 'friend' out of solemnity.

"Return to the tower. I'll follow shortly," he ordered with uneasy quiet. When none moved to obey, he snapped, anger knit across his features, "Now! I said I'll catch up." Cyborg and Beast Boy wore similarly displeased and worried expressions while Starfire's was one of concern and hurt, but Robin said nothing beyond that as they each disappeared out of his sight.

He sighed.

There were angry pulsations beating in his head that might have been his heart and might have been his raw emotions ripping themselves apart and then messily stitching themselves back together again. There were regrets about fierce words and a pointless fight. There were doubts.

There was the thought of losing Raven, forever.

Even as he kicked the stand up and took off at unrecorded speed on his R-Cycle, Robin knew he had been lying earlier; he would not follow his team. Not for the first time, he would deviate from a leader's role and allow himself to either focus wholly on one thing or lose all focus to the point of not being able to concentrate at all.

He was going after her, bond or no bond, he felt she must be alive because surely without her, he too would no longer be able to draw breath as he did beneath his helmet, frustrated and anxious.

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His gut instinct served him effectively, even if he had no way of knowing it did.

Raven stirred in the empty room her friends had just seen her in a half hour ago, through the bot's screen. She groaned, rubbing her head as she slowly propped herself up on her elbows. She felt like she'd been hit with a truck or dropped off a cliff—or something equally brutal. Placing her hand down on the cold metal of the floor, she herd a distinct ting, the sound of metal on metal and she looked down.

A ring was on her hand, her ring finger actually. She bit her tongue to keep back a cry of dismay and instead, tried to remove it.

It would not budge, much less come off. A growl rose in the back of her throat and she stormed to the door, ready to loose all her vexation on it and hope to Azar that she could kick it down in an unusual bout of what Starfire might call righteous fury. As it was, she didn't have to.

The door slid open automatically.

It was unlocked. She could not help but arch a brow at the empty space before her in the corridor. Cautiously—for who let their enemy wander all of the sudden with access to anywhere without an alternative motive?—she stepped through the hall.

Apparently, Slade let his enemy wander all of the sudden with access to anywhere—the alternative motive had yet to be discerned, as certain as Raven was that it existed.

Her footsteps echoed with a loudness she was not accustomed to making, but she knew it was no use to try and levitate.

_That damn ring._ She tried again to slip it off, but could not and sighed.

_That damn Slade. _

_What is his problem anyway?_

"I don't have a problem, dear Raven," his voice sauntered in behind her and she flinched. Wait...she hadn't just said that aloud, which meant that... "I share a mental link with you." He finished her thoughts for her and she was either brave or careless enough to spin on her heel and poke him angrily in the middle of his chest, scowling.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Head!" She punctuated each word with deepening levels of her glare, as well as pauses powerfully injected with displeasure.

"I think not," he dismissed her order and pushed past her. She followed, livid.

"Where did you get this?" she demanded, fear from before losing all its grounds as she let Rage and Bravery combine to make something of a Christmas-esque spectacle in her mindscape of Nevermore.

To her further indignation, he ignored her and kept walking until he got to one of the last three uniform doors and punched in a code to allow himself access.

"Answer me!" She trailed into the room after him. The other effect of the ring was to smother her emotional outbursts and their effects on the outer world. Nothing was exploding, not the computers, not the doors and ever so unfortunately in her opinion, not Slade, so she could only surmise it was a truthful clause concerning the artifact.

He began typing something and pressing in random numbers and schematics began rolling across the eight or nine screens around them and Raven was unsettled by how much he reminded her of Robin.

_No, don't think about that._ She slapped herself mentally.

"Yes, Robin and I are rather…alike," Slade drawled from his seat without turning around and Raven frowned deeply. This was a most hated set-up indeed.

"Only in your least despicable qualities," she conceded roughly and took seat at the front computer screen. "What is all this?" She waved a hand at the still scrolling information. Slade did his best not to be caught off guard by her sudden aloofness, not because she was cold—that he expected—but because she had the distinct air of someone completely indifferent for his or her well-being.

_Well, if anyone could manage to be indifferent about such a thing, it would be her_, Slade admitted to himself and gave her an answer. "Lists," was his terse reply. She scowled again.

"If you have no intentions of using me then why am I still here?" she asked after probing his mind a little bit, subtly, but not subtly enough.

"Who said I had no intentions?" he queried smoothly and then proceeded to shoot up several very solid mental walls, ejecting Raven from his mind entirely. She recoiled violently, a sharp pain festering behind her temples. "Don't go places you can't come back from, Raven. I should think you would know that better than anyone."

"Likewise," she rasped, voice and throat suddenly hoarse as if from yelling. The rejection of her energies from Slade's mind had been not only powerful, but notably aggressive. She found it hard to breathe and let her hood fall, hoping for better circulation of the air around her.

_Bastard_.

"Watch your tongue," he teased.

"Technically it's my mind," Raven said, her breathing still shallow from the physical blow she had taken due to being so hostilely thrown out of another's mind when she wasn't prepared for it.

Slade sighed. He was not familiar with shielding his mind from others. His mask tended to do that for him and since he was not used to such things, he had been more forceful than he meant to be in pushing her out of his head.

An empath was a little more trouble than he had first supposed, albeit a very sensuous and equally tempestuous one...still trouble, and he forced himself to focus on that part of her instead of her other comparatively more...desirable qualities.

"Just breathe and calm yourself, child," Slade intoned, as if bored by her, even though he was anything but. Raven bristled.

"I am not a child."

"To me, you are." And that was, if nothing else, the mother of all the lies he had fabricated so far.

A child would not entrance him as she did with her every flicker of those violet eyes; a child would not call up in him some awkwardly human urge with the arch of her back as she stretched to relieve herself of various kinks and tensions.

A child would not make him _feel _as she made him feel.

_That damn girl_, he mused darkly, not realizing his mental phrasing was conspicuously similar to her earlier one. Raven had gotten control over her intake of oxygen again, her throat still sore, and huffed to herself in front of the computer screens, pushing random buttons out of a mixture of boredom and piqued desire for vengeance, however petty she might have to resort to being.

"Stop that," Slade snapped at her, but she didn't listen.

"Stop _what_?" she asked, obviously trying to get a rise out of him.

"I don't even have to let you in here, much less let you out of that room down the hall you've been keeping to yourself in, so be careful of your attitude," Slade warned, but it was only half-supported. The truth was his obsession was eased with her proximity somehow, eased by his interaction with her, even if it was all antagonistic to some degree.

Some part of himself smothered the thought that he might truly take some form of joy in her company and as quickly as it came, it was gone and he was back to being singularly annoyed with her.

"Just because you're playing nice right now doesn't mean I have to," Raven said, fed up now. She tried again to get the ring off, failing of course.

"The rings are rather nice," Slade goaded her and she did her best to not be what could only be described as 'needlessly aggravated' by him.

"You know that's not what I meant," she said.

"I actually do," Slade returned, inferring to his ability to tap into her mind and Raven flinched.

"I hate you," Raven said and turned away from him again, drawing her knees to her chest as she became decidedly fascinated with the lists on the many flat screens around her, doing her best to catch anything useful.

"Well, the feeling is not far from mutual," Slade muttered his lesser lie and went about his business, now unconcerned with the captive titan due to her suppressed powers and he did his best to be unconcerned with her person as well.

To his chagrin, he found himself to mostly fail at accomplishing the last.

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Days passed without the general concept of time being applied.

Raven accepted Slade's invitation to stay in the one other room available to her—though there were so many she wondered at their contents as well—and spent her nights there, not quite sleeping, but drifting. She had resigned herself to being stuck there until she figured out how to either disenchant the rings or at least get them removed.

For a short time she had considered cutting off her finger but Slade had sensed this thought—that damn mental link—and made certain nothing that could allow her this action was in her reach.

He made her feel like a child and she hated him all the more for it as day by day she crept through the rooms, knowing that he probably knew she did and let her do so because he knew she would find nothing helpful to her. Slade was too paranoid a man to not know everything that went on in his own abode, after all.

Moments not spent lurking in corners she was certain he could see her in anyway and not spent seething in her room, trying to get a new grasp on things, were spent doing her best to annoy her captor.

Her reasoning was becoming more and more juvenile as Slade had first insinuated but she was getting both desperate and terribly impatient: she figured if she couldn't get herself out that the next feasible way was to get him to let her out himself...if only because he couldn't stand another second of her ruining his machines or talking his ear off in her monotone fashion about absolutely nothing, as opposed to the intelligent conversation she was quite capable of having with him.

Except of course that she did not deign to.

"I do wish you would cease that," Slade said, clearly annoyed. Raven scowled deeply.

"And so I've plenty of reason to keep at it," she retorted saucily with a flip of her hair, growing out now since she had nothing with which to cut it. Her hair grew fast after all and it had been a while since she was first brought here.

It had been nearly three weeks. In that time Raven had made eighteen admirable attempts at escape, none of which—as must be evident—were successful. They did, however, make it a necessity for Slade to spend several despised hours locking down his entire hidden lair, securing it from her because even though the rings subdued her teleportation, it soon became clear—through a series of somewhat rocky incidents—that she could still move things with her mind and short-circuit anything technical within a thirty-foot radius.

"Would you like scissors?" Slade asked suddenly and Raven turned slowly to stare in question.

"Excuse me?"

"Would you like scissors? In my company you may not be so driven to resort to such primitive means of escape as cutting off your finger and your hair has gotten much longer," he paused here to mentally stroll into her mind to indicate where this seemingly abrupt conversation had come from and her displeasure increased tenfold. "I thought you might like to cut it to its usual length."

"Don't like long hair?" Raven said, wry and amused in spite of herself. If there was a more unlikely topic to be discussing than hair-cutting with Slade, she was hard-pressed to think of it.

"Actually, I do," he said shortly. And it was true. It was becoming more and more difficult to live with her in such close proximities to himself. Where first her nearness had eased his fixation with her, it now drilled it further into him like something strange and wonderful. It was like a taste of something that made one so thirsty it made no sense to keep on tasting, but one could not help it, even under the chance of dying from thirst from so much of the one thing they truly craved. Her longer hair gave her an added look of supple femininity that Slade suspected she duly did not care for but regardless, softened the edges of her, took away some of the hardness that was used to build her stoic nature so solidly. As for Raven herself, her amusement died a swift death with the unexpected candor and the oddly sensual timbre in her only company's voice.

"Where are your scissors?"

Curse the bastard, he threw them at her as carelessly as he might have thrown a dinner roll. She stopped them midair with her mind and snatched them, hacking mercilessly away at the longish sections—most of them falling below her shoulders.

Snip. Snip. Snip...

"Why do you keep me here?" she asked. She asked everyday. "You do me no outright harm and do not use me as others might to get the titans and you do not even make action to go after them. Why?" She threw the scissors back at him and huffed almost imperceptibly as he caught them without even looking. Such was Slade.

"I do not go after the titans if it does not suit my interests, does not benefit me in some very measurable way. I do not use you to get to them because I am not ready to do so...yet," he paused here and eyed her levelly. To her favor, Raven waited, knowing he had more to say—or expecting it, either one. "And I do not hurt you because I do not believe in damaged goods." Raven flinched.

"What does that mean?" she all but growled, and swifter than she could account for, Slade had moved around the area where he usually sat and stood in front of her fuming form, tilting her chin up at him with his fingers.

She found his hold to be oddly gentle.

"I do wish I could see beyond your mind, dear Raven, beyond even your lovely face for nowhere can I find the absolute reason behind what others would be so lofty as to call, my increasingly vexing 'obsession' with you," and with that he dropped her chin from his hands and stalked out of the room, ruffled beyond a doubt and as confusing as ever. Raven traced her chin and jaw with her right hand thoughtfully.

_Obsession_?

She knew a thing or two about it and as his words sunk in, she felt her stomach do strange things that had nothing to do with the fact that she hadn't eaten anything since the morning before.

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"Robin man, where are you?" Cyborg's voice echoed off his communicator.

"Looking for her," he said shortly. He did not need to specify who he referred to. The knowing glint in Cyborg's eyes told him the half cybernetic man understood, even if he did not agree.

"Man, come back. You need to rest," Cyborg was the big brother with a relentless edge.

"No, I need Raven," Robin said shortly and shut the communicator with a resounding click.

He hadn't gone back to the tower since that night nearly three weeks ago, had hardly rested scarce when he could not keep his eyes open by the rims of his nails or some other equally sharpening method. No. The widely-proclaimed boy wonder had scoped the city inch by inch of fathomable inch and found not a trace at which point he could only conclude that Slade might not be in the city at all. But then again, no. Slade would not leave without one of them having seen on patrol or likewise.

So where?

He ran his hand through his hair absently. Its ends were uneven at best and disheveled at worst—or worse. If he ever took his mask off—and everyone knows he didn't—one could have seen the circles under his eyes, half circles really, shadows. The shadows most disturbing of all though were the ones in his eyes, not under them. They seemed hollowed and blind, cold and relentless in a way not entirely safe to be as a human.

"Where are you?" he asked the empty space around him and was not at all surprised that he got no answer. It seemed a running theme lately: no answers.

Things could have gotten worse, much as Robin was loathe to admit, but it only began to rain and so, used to such unaccommodating weather, the masked vigilante continued his dogged search, numb and heavy with it.

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Sorry for the wait! I'm working on **Winner Takes All**'s next chapter though as well as beta-reading castle in the air's next chapters of **Waste Not, Want Not** and **Accidental**, so please stay with me if you can! As always, reviews are appreciated but not mandated.

-rei


	7. Chapter 6: for nothing

Thank you so much for each review. I am really grateful and I apologize for the slowness or shortness of this chapter but with any luck the next one will pick up decently again but this has some decent interaction at least. Let me know if I should continue, haha. I probably will anyway, since leaving a story unfinished would be lazy I guess, or something, but I do know this story seems to—for some people—not be quite so exciting or fast-paced, but I had to toy with this idea! My fanatic side would not let me quit. I rather like Slade's character you see, and his past is intriguing, even though the show has yet to go into it in depth.

Sorry for the ramble. Review if you can/have time. It's always a nice surprise in my inbox full of otherwise school-related junks that keep me from my beloved titans.

-rei

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**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

**Chapter Six: for nothing**

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He cursed his weakness and blamed it on the old age that would never come to him, knowing that even now he was only 27, a youth for all the crime and death and blackness surrounding his past and present. The loss of his wife however long ago, the fact that he had caused her end was to be the stopper of all stoppers, the wrench in the gears of a normal person's ability to seek or even desire what he now was faced with wanting. Adie...the loss of her was to be the defining factor that kept him from that human side he never wanted to feel again, wanted to kill, and who, since he could not kill himself physically, had to die an inside death, a silent one without pleas. Slade was supposed to be Slade, not anyone else.

But then there was that one eye left, that unscarred part of his face, that yearning part of whatever pieces of soul remained, all tossing and turning.

And it wasn't that the young sorceress reminded him of his late wife, no, far from it. Raven was darker, a less nurturing character to be sure, though no less beautiful, no less...entrancing. Yet it was not solely physical, he had come to find in her time there. She had a quick tongue, that he knew, but he had not noticed, had not ever taken the time perhaps, to take in the mind behind it, the quiet and composed way she held herself when she was in a room with him, no fear. But in that same quiet way she moved...the villain started in his chair, in spite of himself. His eyes flickered in realization. She moved like a person uncertain, for all her confidence, an inhibited beauty, like someone used to being not only in the background, but faded...ignored. And it occurred to Slade and the man behind Slade's façade that she had probably never been told how beautiful she was...told that she was beautiful at all or that she was loved.

Not that he was an expert or anything. He himself had only been loved once, it seemed...and she was dead.

He shook the memory of Adie away brusquely, turning his mind back to the young lady in his hold now and her quiet mannerisms. Only someone who had never known the words of a lover would have such guarded eyes and measured and pre-calculated actions; this was even set apart from her usual need to tie down her emotions, with which he was all too familiar. It wasn't a knowledge or social awareness that could be gotten from a father—well, certainly not hers—, or even a mother—and she having died so early, probably not enough time to say anything anyway—, or even a friend—and here his mind flashed on the young leader of the titans. His lips curled distastefully. The mental link the rings provided him with Raven did not allow him much because the empath had grown up knowing and learning better ways than he on how to harness and hide her thoughts, but what he saw sometimes, when he saw it, could not be anything but true.

And he had seen...things.

There were images, in her more silent days, the days he knew she most missed her comrades, the days he began to remember what it was like to worry about another soul, to long to go to that other entity and give...dare he even think it? Comfort. It was of course, a comfort he never gave into approaching her with. What would she think after all? Would she even believe him? He doubted it sorely. But those images...of her friends they were usually, but more often than that he found them falling upon the masked face of the boy wonder...angry, sullen, lost...caring. From the mental link too, however, Slade knew that nothing was between the birds, but then again sometimes nothing was everything and for the birds...well, he was less skeptical of feelings being there than most things.

Worst of all his realizations though, he had somehow, after his slight admission of his fixation with her, noticed Raven's animosity to lessen considerably and this gave him a twisted sliver of hope. He was surprised he could put a name to it. It had been so long since it had even been a matter of any consideration for anything at all for him. Her mere tolerance of him seemed to yield to something more akin to curiosity and intrigue...and this was vexing too. She stood at times, in his study, running her fingers across the spines of one set of tomes or another, casting perplexed glances at him when she came across a particularly unexpected title. Here he would give explanation and of all those times, he recalled with an unnerving fondness, there was one time that the amethyst eyes seemed to smile at him...not through him or around him, but at him.

How was he supposed to take that, anyway? He buried his face in his hands, mask long since set aside in the darkness of his room. His sigh of frustration was heard by no one and that bothered him as well. Since when had he cared who heard or was there to hear anything he had to say, anything he thought? Since when?

His mind told him since when, but he did not want to listen. She was dead. So were the feelings. Why couldn't they stay buried?

Being human was not attractive to him, he knew. It proved too weakening, too much a defective way of living...but it seemed more and more lately that he would have no choice. He could not take her because he actually cared. Yes, he cared. At first he had told himself it was his standards, his desire to not be crude, but still maintain a contemptuous light. At first.

But he knew it to be completely different sooner than he would ever admit.

He knew it was because of the way she rested her chin on her hand thoughtfully over her cup of tea in the morning as she waited for it to cool a little and she thumbed through one of the thousands of books in his archives. He knew it was because of how she had come to taking to his company of her own will lately more than of his subtle manipulations to get her near him, just to watch her while she tried to get under his skin, more of a game now really than an actual ploy to get away, he could sense. He knew it was because when he had held her chin with his fingers and looked at her, told her as close as he could yet come to what he thought of her, he had wanted to bring himself closer still.

But how could he even know what he felt anymore? How could he begin to? He had long since staved off any remote semblance to what he suspected to lurk in his mind and psyche...it had been so long. Still, without needing to ponder, he knew he had if at all, only felt this once...yet he could not put words to it for her, even so near to her as he had been.

Instead he had stalked off, irritated with her and with himself.

But that was the way it had to be, right? He scowled into nothing in particular. There was another thing. Slade did not question himself, ever. He left the questioning up to his foes and his prey. But lately he had been doing nothing but that singular act and while it threatened to make him lose what was left of his mind, it also drove him to seeing things more clearly than perhaps he would have deigned to otherwise. What could he do?

"Slade?" it was a soft tone, the gentlest she'd used yet and it still managed to scare about ten years of life out of him—not that he showed it, not that anyone would've been able to tell the empath's sudden appearance through the wall nearly caused him a heart attack...not that anyone but her would've noticed. But she did. And the slight upward quirk of her lips told him so. He tried not to be as disgruntled as he felt.

"What?" There, that was, if anything, impersonal at best.

"Will I ever be set free?" And the small smile was gone, and here was her meaning behind the softness, here was her sadness at its quietest, and fullest, and most hurtful. He was vaguely aware of the minute flick of her right hand that made the ring on her finger glimmer its silver sheen, even in the dark. Absently, he twisted his own.

"You ask me that every day," he stated numbly.

"And every day you evade me," she countered smoothly.

"You know," and his laugh was quiet, but not hollow as he fell into his next words like a stumbling blind man, "I find a certain degree of pathetic pallor in myself these days, an unusual fraction of human quality that I'd thought myself far beyond reach of years ago." Here he paused and Raven shifted, showing her first sign of discomfort in all the time she'd spent there.

"And...why is that?" She didn't know why she asked. It wasn't like she really wanted the answer, wasn't like she wanted to listen to his voice and hear what he had to say, wasn't like she dared to hope for what even the boy who almost kissed her on a rooftop eons ago had never told her. It wasn't like that.

Not exactly.

"Because, Raven," and she shivered at the sound of her name on his lips, "I am a fool." Even he couldn't say it, it seemed and Raven scowled darkly, more to herself than at him. She didn't want him to say it anyway. He was a criminal, Robin's arch nemesis, the titans' worst adversary and...a well read man of well-chosen words, if few, subtle and keen, intellectual and dark, not without that ample amount of attractiveness that made it seem unfair to the rest of men his age—scar abating. Whether she shook her head to clear it or deny it, she wasn't certain.

Neither was Slade.

And as they were there they sized each other up for the thousandth time, him sitting, legs akimbo with elbows resting on them as if making some under the table deal that had nothing to do with legalities, she standing before him, cloak hanging loosely about her, as though ready to wrap her up and fly her away from everything, even herself. They met each other's gazes and they met each other's minds and tentatively—neither was certain which allowed access first—it was like a mental click as doors were gently edged open...memories first, concerns, thoughts...fears.

But both were a paranoid sort, so it was only a glimpse of what was really there. But it was enough and then they were back to staring at each other like nothing else existed to stare at, so why not?

Why not?

There was a thin tension, the same feeling a person could get from tiptoeing across a room with a sleeping body in it, afraid to wake them, but almost wanting to, because the person on the couch was the one you'd had a fight with earlier and couldn't wait another instant to talk to, to get things out in the open...There was a cloudy darkness in the room that had nothing to do with the fact that there were no lights on and no light at all except the white shadow creeping underneath the closed door...There was only a dark girl and a dark man in a dark room.

And it was nothing and it was everything.

Slade laughed at the strangeness, mentally of course and felt Raven's own cerebral tug as if she was asking 'what?' with a quizzical look, though her face remained impassive on the surface. He laughed at the similarity to his earlier thoughts only this time, there was the definite and all too present and noticeable absence of one of the birds in the equation and he wasn't certain he minded in the least, wasn't certain he minded that it was only him and her.

For whatever reason, he dared not name. He could not name it...ironically, he could only _feel_ it.

Something in his companion's eyes told him maybe that was enough.

And this time Slade did not even blink at his mental lapse in calling her 'companion' instead of something much less personal. She turned to go and he stood, suddenly, the first movement that lacked fluidity she had ever seen him make. Her footfalls halted and she glanced over her shoulder, tentatively.

"What?" she asked simply. He took a step to her.

"Nothing," he said after what could have been a millennium, but as he passed her he took a moment to stand strangely close to her, close enough to take in the odd and scintillating scent of her—clear vanilla and old books probably, if he could discern properly—, and he repeated himself with a softness she had never suspected him capable of. "Nothing," and he pressed something familiar and cold and metal into the palm of her hand, curling her fingers with that same unpredictably gentle touch before walking out of the room, door shutting with a clang behind his shadowed form.

Even in the dark Raven could match the ring up with the one on her finger.

She slipped her own off and eyed both circles of silver, confused and...something else, and then she realized he'd answered her of course, today.

She could finally go home. Her mind immediately flashed on her volatile argument with Robin that had transpired before she was taken and her heart ached at the thought of leaving what had started as a prison and now seemed like the only safe place for her to be at all. And for the first time Raven realized she had a dumbfounding question.

Did she really want to go home anymore?

An explosion rocketed her out of her thoughts. Lights flashed red and glaring. Her eyes darted around, perplexed and caught off guard. What was going on? A look at the screen in the room behind her made her breath catch unkindly in her throat. It was a timer...probably for a self-destruct mechanism. Gathering her cloak around her she fell into her soul-self, but she did not flee.

No.

She flew in search of him. Surely, she reasoned, he had a way out. Surely he would be fine. But she couldn't leave without knowing...and she wished to have their mental link back again, but instead was unexpectedly met full-force with the bond that she had thought lost to her forever: Robin. Her mind reeled from shock and she was in her normal form, building still making angry sounds about impending destruction around her as she leaned against the wall for support. His mind was so cold...so distant...he felt crazed...

Shaking herself, she willed her resolve to strengthen and sent a silent thought towards the quiet man who loved chess and books as much as she did, a silent thought that said she hoped she was alright, even if he couldn't hear her thought. Then she dashed through and down the halls, coming to a door she hadn't explored before and threw it open to reveal a flight of stairs. Throwing any caution she might have had under normal circumstances aside, she bounded up them, not trusting her teleportation abilities, not trusting herself.

Another explosion came, and this one sent Raven sprawling on the stair case as she hit her head against the wall. Her legs threatened to not work right and she scowled as she levitated the rest of the way up. Now she could hear voices...familiar ones. She paused next to the door...

"Liar!" It was Robin, and Raven's hand unconsciously pressed firmly against her chest as she winced; his intensity made her heart pained, heavy. There was the sound of a flurry of motion, fighting she could only presume, a clash of metal, staffs probably...

"Exhilarating as this is Robin, as I said before. Raven," and he paused at her name in a way that only she could understand. For his voice was as emotionless and subtly mocking as ever it was when he did battle, but she heard more because now, whether she liked it or not, she knew more. She was not certain this was a good thing but was pulled out of her thoughts at his next words, "...is not here. She...escaped." It was a lie, of course. But he could not tell Robin that, no. Slade was a villain and even if he had told him, Robin would never believe...no. And in his current state...Raven flinched as she heard an angered cry from her leader and a grunt from her previous captor.

"I will take her back! She is mine!" Robin recoiled from one of Slade's stronger attacks, but held his ground, feet shifting in a half-defensive posture, brow knit in frustration and too many endless hours of anxiousness, of not knowing.

"One would never know," Slade said coolly and Raven was about to open the door when the door came bursting in on itself by way of a detonator of some kind—whether it was Slade's or Robin's she did not know. Another groan after someone hitting the concrete of the building's roof and she could hear Slade's voice, choked but echoing in that fascinating way his mask allowed. "You've never even told her you love her, never spoken to her in a way that would make her your own. You have never told her, Robin," and his voice was a definite sneer of disgust now, "You have never told her she is beautiful."

Her heart might have stopped there. She couldn't be sure. Robin, for his part, felt some more of his restrain slip.

"How do you know?" Robin pressed the metal length of the staff harder against his foe's neck, threatening to break him. He was tired...no, exhausted, and half-insane with the days of obsessively searching for Raven, of not seeing her, not being able to feel their bond, not understanding...knowing he might never see her again, and all this he blamed alone on Slade...until now as the villain continued to speak.

"I know," Slade whispered dangerously, very aware of how little more pressure Robin needed to apply to snap his life in half. The masked vigilante had him pinned in a way that disabled movement, else Slade might have easily escaped.

"You know nothing!" Robin's voice was impassive and it struck a terrible fear in Raven's mind as their bond proceeded to not disappear, but almost twist in a mutated, disfiguring way. She cried out and fazed through the wall.

"Robin, stop!" She nearly dropped to her knees; his mind was so lost, Hellish, there were traces of the same delusional aspects as he had had when he imagined Slade to be where he was not...but this was all him, all Robin, and it was much worse for it. Here was darkness in him, here was pain and tragic stubbornness, and blindness...here was some of the man he hid behind his covered eyes and it was very cold and very dangerous feeling. She stepped closer to him. "Please, Robin...stop. Don't kill him...this isn't you, Robin, let me in," she laid her hand on his shoulder and felt as he slowly began to allow her into his mind fully again and she was relieved to feel traces of the usual hopeful warmth she had long ago come to associate with him.

"Raven," he breathed her name like he didn't believe she was really there, but his grip loosened and that was all Slade needed. Launching himself up, Slade knocked Robin off of him and sprinted to the edge of the building. Snapping out of his daze of relief, Robin seemed to forget Raven in that instant, taking after Slade at a dead run. She shot after him.

"Robin, stop! Just...let him go," Raven tried to make it sound like it was just because it was too much work, like it was just because she wanted to go home...she tried to believe it herself too as she did the only thing she could think of: stopped him herself in a black encasement of her glowing heritage.

But she wasn't fooling anyone, least of all herself. She felt cold again as Robin's voice ripped through her.

"You...you're protecting him?" his voice was outrage and incredulity. His face was pain and betrayal.

"Can we just go home, Robin, please?" She never asked, never pleaded, but all she wanted now was to go home, to lock herself in her room until she could forget the comfort of being a captive. It reminded her too much of being captive to a strange dragon in a strange book from a strange time...and she would not be broken again. She could not stand it. But Robin shook with anger and she felt herself wilt at the grieved emotions flowing through their bond.

"I can't believe you!" He accused her of many things with that single phrase. It was again nothing and everything. It was just the two birds as Slade had disappeared into the night once again.

"Robin listen to me. He did not hurt me. He was...kind," she tried to reason with her best friend, with her leader...with a young man she might have loved...might still love.

"It's Slade!" Again, a simple sentence said so much, and with it, he pushed her away, so spent on fury and confusion, so lost.

"I know," she said quietly. "And he let me go."

"Like Hell he did. He told me you escaped," Robin bit out harshly. She tried not to recoil and focus on her own anger, building now. Why couldn't he just feel their bond? Why couldn't he trust her? It was not like she had anything to gain in lying.

"You believe him over me!" She fired her own hurt accusation, eyes flashing in the unforgiving moonlight.

"What difference does it make?" And she dropped the barrier holding him back as he uttered those horribly final words. She crossed her arms over herself and turned away from him, angry, upset...aching. And for the first time so far, Robin's face relaxed into one of regret, one of sudden realization of everything.

"There is perhaps, no difference at all Richard," she whispered and began to levitate away but she felt his hand grab her wrist and pull her back. "Let me go," she still whispered, not trusting her voice not to break. How dare he? She would not be weak in the face of his words. No.

"Raven, I'm sorry I...I did not mean that. You know I didn't, I...I can tell from our connection you were being honest...I was just...I'm sorry...Raven, stop trying to get away from me. I only just found you again," his last sentence dropped and she could hear his sadness and feel his heartache as if it were her own. But his words...she struggled. "Raven!" he only said her name, but it was so much. Tentatively she allowed her face to turn and glance down at him, and he, sensing a slight lessening in her attention, pulled her bodily down toward him and wrapped his arms around her. Raven tensed. He held her closer, tighter. And she might have been about to relax into him finally, after several long minutes...but a familiar voice came barreling through at that point.

"Robin! Raven!" It was the other titans, standing on the roof of the building across from the one where the two birds stood. Raven pulled away at the sight of them but Robin did not release his hold on her wrist. He would not chance it.

Neither of them could tell if they heard the explosion or felt it first but in a split second Raven felt herself falling, concrete going to pieces beneath her feet and she could feel Robin's hand gripping onto her for the life of both of them...and then there was a searing pain in her head and she after that?

She felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

* * *

Well? More? Eh...well, probably like I said anyway. Heh. Sorry, I'm in a really weird mood today...ah well. Til next time!

-Rei


	8. Chapter 7: for everything

I have no ownership of Teen Titans, sadly.

Thank you for all the reviews and I hope this chapter starts to elucidate better on the triangle I've got going here, as well as the outcome. It's hinted at, but I can't just give it away either. Gotta warn you though, in all fairness, I like Robin and Slade equably for different reasons. I tried to give them more depth here. We'll see how that goes.

Review if you have time, if not, tis quite alright; I'm really very glad you're reading this either way. Thank you much!

-Rei

* * *

**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

**Chapter Seven: For Everything**

* * *

Raven groaned. The phrase 'hit by a truck' passed through her mind and it occurred to her that she might have been. But that didn't make any sense. The last thing she remembered was...

She sat bolt upright, eyes widening in a way not unlike Starfire's tended to when amused or what Raven would refer to as overly joyous, and looked around. Before she'd even finished her vague scan of her surroundings, she knew he was there, before she even heard his voice.

"I thought you might not wake," he worked to be unreadable, even now. She shifted uncomfortably and, throwing the soft sheets off, swung her legs over the side of the small metal bed.

"Where are my things?" she asked, wincing at the dryness in her throat, and he gestured behind him. Her cloak was hung on a hook on the wall with her boots sitting placidly beneath them against the base of the wall. So focused on ascertaining the whereabouts of her stuffs, Raven did not notice the terribly passing look of what could have been disappointment on the unmasked villain's face.

But was he really a villain? She knew the answer, even if she didn't say it.

"You are leaving, then," he said more than questioned and stood from his chair as if to leave.

"Wait, why? This isn't a trick...is it?" She was grasping for straws and she knew it, but she had to ask. Even though her own defense of Slade against Robin earlier seemed to prove she knew already, she had a sudden need to hear it from the man's own mouth, to understand...even a little of what may not be meant to be understood at all.

In that respect, she reflected, they were overwhelmingly alike.

"I should think the reason would be painfully obvious by now...Raven," he said, and it was soft. Cold austerity was gone; forced malice had left the building; even necessary strangeness seemed to have disappeared into nothing. For here was all the odd and incomprehensible and intolerably beautiful things in his tone now; here was his reason.

"But you are...and I am..." she had no real defense and that was evident in the silence that lapped over the two of them as her feeble words whispered themselves away. Slade shrugged.

"I am well aware of who you are," he paused and she thought the pause to be a bitter one. "...well aware of who...of who I am," he finished after said pause and ran a hand through his hair. The gesture reminded her of Robin with a sudden stab of anguish and she turned her gaze to her feet. And it wasn't anguish caused for the lack of her leader or the fact that what had failed to pass between the birds seemed inevitably impossible. It was anguish rather, for an unexpected capability she found stirring in her: the ability to feel for someone on a level she would never normally allow herself, the ability to feel...for Slade.

She did not know what to do with herself, did not know what had become of her and most frighteningly of all, perhaps was that she did not know what to do with _him_.

In his own way, he had all but said he at least...cared for her. Coming from Slade, she properly deduced that to mean he liked her a great deal, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it outright—not that she wanted that.

Not exactly.

"I," her books failed her. Sophocles and Euripides, Browning and Poe, Hemingway and a thousand other well-written artists of word fled from her mind and left her with absolutely nothing to combat her fearsome truth with. She was exposed now more so than ever with no pretty lies to cover up her speechlessness and the vulnerabilities that huddled inside of the hush. So, wordless, she dared to raise her eyes to him again and if Lust poked her in the side to remind her he was rakishly handsome despite the scar, she brushed past her; and if Timid did the closest thing that Timid would ever do to shouting at her to get her to flee that instant, she tuned her out; and if Happy said this might not be so bad, she ignored her.

Raven did, however, notice something: Wisdom had nothing to say, nothing at all.

"Your leader, I think, was rescued by the Tameranian," Slade interrupted her mental scourge. Her eyes flashed speculatively, though not hurt.

"They did not...look for me?" she asked and then couldn't believe she asked at all, but also trusted Slade to tell her the truth. Slade rolled his eyes at her, something he would have never done in the company of anyone else—it betrayed his true age and lingering spots of humanity after all.

"They did of course," he replied brusquely and Raven felt, if possible, equably stupid as she did bad for questioning her friends. "But luck does not suit the titans and it seemed dear Robin had to be whisked away for immediate care and the other two were needed at the south part of the city," here he stopped and when she threw him a probing stare he added, "Trouble with the Hive, I believe." She nodded dumbly.

"They will be concerned," she said quietly. It was his turn to nod. She sighed. At this, he arched a brow.

"You need not worry that I'll try to keep you here." He misinterpreted her sigh for something it was not.

"I am not worried," she said carefully and maybe it was the ease of her words that invited him closer to her, or maybe it was the graceful fashion in which she tilted her head as if to examine him like something under a microscope. Whatever it was, it drew him to cross the room to stand before her.

"You aren't," he said and there was a wonder in his voice she had not heard before either. She closed her eyes and felt his on her, but focused instead on Robin: was he truly alright? Despite their words, stubborn and regrettable as usual, her care for him had not lessened.

"Azarath, metrion, zinthos," she breathed almost imperceptibly, but Slade heard it and watched as Raven's eyes glowed white and her presence seemed to disappear from the room entirely. She sought Robin's conscious and on finding it, landed in his mind without him knowing, blocking herself from him, wishing only to see through his eyes to make certain he was okay.

In her vision, or rather, Robin's, she could see two familiar green eyes, anxious and loving—Starfire—and at first, when the green eyes seemed to lean in, Raven thought nothing of it. Then she felt something on her lips—no, on Robin's lip—, like pressure...and then with a shock she could not hide, she knew exactly what was happening as Robin's eyes closed and her own sight was cut off as such. Silent as ever, she withdrew from his mind and opened her own eyes to find herself back in the mostly empty room, her once subjugator standing at her side. To her dismay she felt hurt begin to show itself in her heart and she quelled it with deep focus on Wisdom and Indifference. She reminded herself she had all but rejected him a while back and that she had no claim on his heart, reminded herself she could not and when it came, her laugh was a hollow one.

"He is alive," Slade ventured and admirably kept the dissatisfaction from his voice.

"And well," Raven added in a non-committal way that made present company frown.

"You are unhappy with such news?" he asked, perplexed in spite of himself, and she only shook her head.

"I am never happy," she corrected him, but her voice did not have the self-pity or self-absorption such a statement should have contained; instead it was a humble truth, murmured from pale lips like the last words of a horrible curse.

It might have been.

"Perhaps, you have never been given a chance," Slade suggested and if he was surprised at his words and bordering on appalled to find his hand lay itself on the dark girl's shoulder, both feelings intensified tenfold when she covered it with her own. His vacant stare turned full as he considered her return of the gesture, her stillness, and most pressingly the fact that she had not yet left. The appalled feeling subsided and the surprise gave way, as often surprise does, to acceptance at what was just another realization in the onslaught: he found he did not want her to leave.

Meanwhile, Raven was thinking along similar lines but now Wisdom voiced displeasure and Rage thrashed incoherently but it was often that Rage did this, so she was at least ignorable. Wisdom on the other hand went so far as to do more than look down her nose at Raven, went so far as to raise her usually more toneless than toneless voice to one of insult and reproach. Happy was shrugging and Sad was tracing the shape of an eye-mask in the sand of Nevermore while Timid hugged herself in the shadow of a precipice. Courage muttered to herself, for once unable to decide on what to support and the others were too muddled to identify.

She pushed them away as best she could, all of them.

"Tell me why," she said. "Tell me."

"It is difficult to say," he answered truthfully and Raven could not fault him for an evasiveness she herself would take on if she found the roles reversed.

"I see," she said, and moved noiselessly away from him one fluid motion, her standing and slipping out from underneath his hand something of a dance because of the poise...or because of the sadness...or both.

"Raven," he said her name with care, like it were a glass piece of the greatest fragility, like it would break under the tiniest intended force, whatever it might be. She paused at the door but her back remained to him and he found this angered him. Would she refuse to even face him on her leave? He went to her and stopped just behind her frame, daring for the first time to indulge a whim of his; he trailed his fingers softly through her hair. She leaned into his touch. "Just as I shall not keep you in this cage, there is not a soul here who would, conversely, make you leave it either." He waited for her to meet his eyes, to glance up at him through dark violet irises, but when she finally did he found himself turning to stare at the ceiling needlessly.

There was another thin pause and then her voice edged into it.

"...I know," was her response and he did not move throughout the length of her silence that then swallowed the two of them up like one great and blurry shadow.

But eventually she returned to the bed in the center of the room and sat down. Eventually he paused beside her until she gestured with her hand as if to tell him it was okay to join her. Eventually he did.

And so they sat, one leaning lightly on the other in the bare room, metal bed creaking under their combined weight; they leaned, her shoulder against his, for support against what scared them both more than anything else had for years now.

"I know this probably won't work," she told him gently and Slade, in spite of the aching disappointment, was simultaneously heartened by her ability and choice to use a gentle tone at all. No one had been gentle toward him for so many years. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be cared about.

"Wouldn't," he corrected her and she gave an echoless laugh, short and bitter.

"Wouldn't," she agreed.

"It doesn't stop you from wondering though," Slade brought her own thoughts to word and she felt him turn; she let herself relax into his embrace.

"No, it doesn't." She rested her head against his chest, listening for the heartbeat she'd been all too sure didn't exist in the man who, years ago, all but delivered them all to near oblivion. _The world works in strange ways_, she thought wryly and wondered at it just a little as she felt his fingers run lazily through her hair, tucking some of it behind her ear. Slade himself was astounded he could remember how to be this way with someone, and he bordered on disbelieving at how easy it came to him with her nearness.

Wasn't the idea of a super villain to be beyond such things? This was not the first time he'd had this triangularly glorified thought, and still it troubled him. What was becoming of him?

He supposed his next words answered him as much as they surprised him, even as he heard his own voice forming the sounds of truth, alien and strangely beautiful.

"I have loved you long, though I did not realize it at first," he said and he said it slowly, thoughtfully. Raven took this moment to lift her face to better look at his and here he continued. "But I knew when you left and I feared I would never see you again, for I had planned to leave Jump. And I knew it when I met with Robin on the rooftop and I was angry—no, envious—that he was a hero and could do as he pleased, live in sunlight and tell the girl he loved he loved her, and have her return it." He stopped when she shook her head sadly.

"He does not." Her claim was soft so that he could not outright dispute it, even though he did not believe her. He knew what he saw and heard from the leader of the titans to be protectiveness, possessiveness, and jealousy, and fear above all things. Slade knew they didn't stem from some fleeting emotion the troubled boy harbored. He did love her. But that Raven did not know he did made the older man pensive. Some part of him whispered that she did not deny her own love for the masked boy, but he shut it off, not wanting to listen.

"In that case, he is more a fool than I am, perhaps." He offered her a terribly wonderful and terribly vulnerable gift in the form of a tentative smile; she thought him handsomer for it.

"He tried, I think. But we are a stubborn kind of people, he and I," she said almost wistfully and shook her head in a doleful manner. "It took you a few weeks, hardly a month, to tell me what he has had years to figure. If it were true, he would have said it," Raven added and told herself she wasn't reasoning or trying to prove anything to anyone, least of all herself. She had a particularly bad moment when her mind flashed on what she knew to be Starfire kissing Robin while Raven had been searching for his bond to her, and froze in thought on that moment. He loved her, perhaps. It would not have been unfeasible; the pretty alien had at least made her own intentions clear time and again. Their leader had been sketchy with all of that as to a response but...those two together made some sort of sense at least, she argued with herself and was dismayed to still feel her heart breaking the smallest bit.

"I knew even before that possibly," Slade admitted with some reluctance, but there was no sullenness, only honesty. He avoided mention of Robin again; he didn't like the empty and shaded look his present companion took on when his ex-apprentice came up in conversation so far.

"You could have said something." She eyed him considerately, but not in rejection, and he felt relief even if he did not show it.

"No, I couldn't." She waited for him to further explain. Slade sighed. "I stole you away, imprisoned you; I am your team's most hated adversary. I couldn't tell you. Your love of them might make you hate me for taking you from them...from him," he paused and broke their shared gaze before finishing, "if you did not already hate me of your own accord, which would also be expected I gather." Shifting in his arms, she moved away a little bit and Slade was alarmed at how cold he felt without her pressed against him, but he did not hold her back. She seemed to assess him like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit, like a black chess piece in the midst of white ones at the start of the game, like oil on water.

"You are trying to remind me of what I already know," she said, a little taken aback. He was afraid she would make the wrong choice, she realized with some gratitude.

"Only because it is sometimes what we know best that we hide from best as well," he cautioned and she laughed at him, a quiet laugh, but a real one for all its quietness. He arched a brow at her. "What?"

"You said before you thought you were a fool, but I am beginning to think it is I who is the fool here." He threw her a questioning look and she said with a smile that said she didn't quite believe her own ears, "I seem to have fallen in love with you as well..." Her smile faltered here though and Slade read it like words on a page.

"But you have feelings also for...him," he decided to put it cryptically even though both knew who he referred to. She nodded and he noted some amount of shame in her gesture.

"I know it is strange, and wrong," she began and bit her lower lip in a pensive pause before saying, "Yet I know this is how I feel. Still, I also know you probably..." she trailed off again.

"I probably what, Raven?" he prompted her, though not unkindly.

"Probably, with present knowledge, do not want me?" It was a frail question.

"You are incredibly foolish," he agreed and now he drew her to him like something precious, which she was. No longer an obsession, he realized that somehow she had become the most intense of his affections and more than that: he didn't mind.

"I do not know what to do," she confessed with such a depth of bitterness that Slade empathized with her; he couldn't remember the last time he had even considered empathy to be an option.

"Do what you must," he offered her no ultimatum, nothing too final, just a fork in the road she didn't really feel like dealing with...not yet anyway. And there were no more words for some time as she settled against him again and allowed his arms to surround her.

----------------------------------------------------------------

A while before...

Robin had pushed Starfire away at the jolt he felt in his mind. Raven. She was there, he was certain and now he was even more certain that she was gone. Starfire for her part had been confused and Robin couldn't really blame her; signals always seemed to get mixed pretty badly between the two of them, especially in the eyes of the press. She'd only been acting on her feelings, not knowing he did not return them similarly.

"Robin?" she asked and moved back to her seat at his side in the med lab unhappily.

"Star," he began and sighed before he could continue. "I'm sorry, I just don't..." he tried to find the right words. He failed. The gentle Tameranian was emotional by nature but she did her best to force back the tears she felt pushing to surface; she did not want to be a burden, much as she wanted the boy in front of her, much as she loved him. Maybe it was because she loved him that she accepted his non-verbalized rejection.

"No, I am sorry, friend Robin," she pasted a smile on her tanned features and though the boy wonder could see right through it, he acknowledged the acceptance she offered him. "If you will excuse me," she said more quietly and the smile had already gone before she turned to leave him to his own devices, alone in the med lab. He rubbed his head, frowning. Raven. She had been there, in his head...he was sure of it. Why had he only noticed her just then though? He could tell from that one glimpse that she'd been there a while and this confused him; he'd only been aware of her, and suddenly, when...

With a hollow pang he remembered: he'd only been aware of her when Star kissed him. And the feelings he'd been made aware of were hurt, and misunderstanding, and surrender, and...other things. His mind flashed on his unkind words to her before the building came down around them and Robin cursed. He would probably be lucky if she ever spoke to him again...and then there was her odd behavior concerning Slade. Something inside him twisted at the thought that the older man might actually walk away with her in the end. The door to the lab swished open minutes later as he strapped on his utility belt again and adjusted his green gauntlets. He turned to go, but Beast Boy blocked his way.

"Dude, you can't go out like that," the changeling's voice admonished uncharacteristically. "Half the building we pulled off of you!"

"I've got to find her again; there's been...a misunderstanding," Robin said, careful to be cryptic yet final. Beast Boy exhaled, exasperated.

"Look, we only just got you out of that building. We couldn't find her anywhere. Dude, how do you even know..." he trailed off at a withering glare from his leader.

"I know," he said shortly and Beast Boy shook his head but stepped back to let Robin pass, knowing he'd do so by force if necessary.

Robin sped off via R-cycle with more speed and recklessness than he ever had before, but it hardly mattered. Without her, it seemed little did.

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"He just went off, again!" Beast Boy shouted, irritated with Robin but also concerned. This was beyond becoming ridiculous and more than a little frightening a cycle.

"We must follow," Starfire decided for them and Cyborg agreed with a silent nod. His thoughts were not only on Robin but on Raven; the titans had gotten to the adjoining rooftop before the building collapsed in time to see her stop Robin from pursuing Slade and it was for that reason, among others, that he worried also for her sake. If things were as he theorized they might be—for the bionic man was very smart, loudness and meat-loving aside and so on, and he was at least decent at observation—he knew there was some pain in store for all involved, particularly two dark birds. But he would think more on that later.

Now they had to follow their leader, as the phrase might be, and hope to whatever God might be listening that he didn't become increasingly foolish with his anger and pride. It was too dangerous to consider might happen if he did.

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Raven was in a dark place.

Of course, this wasn't unusual, but this was a different kind of dark and that was unusual to be sure. How could one darkness be different from another, after all? This one, she decided upon scrutiny, was a hollow kind, not the filled in gap of chasm's black but the emptiness of a large and intensifying void.

She had only been in this kind of place once before.

"Daughter," a sneer greeted her and she felt her skin burn. She looked down and her face paled more than one thought possible. It couldn't be. She'd been through this already. The portal, the end of the world, the revival, all of it, she'd been through it and it was over. It had to be. There was his laughter then and she knew against all reason, it was not over at all. "You thought to escape me forever, dear daughter?" It was rhetorical but her spitfire required an answer and drew it from her lips.

"No, I thought to destroy you." There, that was pretty good, she thought wryly but her eyes maintained the severe worry from before as she examined the familiar red markings all over her skin, angry and Hellish...demonic.

"Well met, spawn of mine," he mocked and she despised him for that weird echoing effect his voice had in this empty space, in this space where it seemed all there was, was her and him, and more of him than her to be specific. He seemed to overwhelm the place with the Hell he endeavored to spread across worlds.

"Not so well if you're here, what is it you want?" she said, icy in the face of flames.

"Nothing you don't already know," her father's voice boomed around her with obvious ridicule and she crossed her arms defiantly.

"Then you might as well pack up and back off. Nothing has changed," she challenged him; she'd done it before. This time would be no different. She swore upon it then and there for the planet that had allowed her, for the friends who had raised her, and the home that had been given her. It was a silent vow, but no less sincere or binding.

And she knew a lot about the solidarity of a vow—one of hope, particularly—and the threads that wrapped around her fate now were of a ghostly silver that foretold of that fate she had tied herself to. She did not blink an eye at it though. Her father could not be allowed success; she would not allow it.

"I think not," he replied, amused by her vagrant show of continuous mutiny. She dared still, when he returned now more powerful than ever? She went so far as to question him and his abilities? She defied him? Amusing indeed, the entity of Trigon let scorn trickle through the area in reverberating chuckles of malice and cynicism.

"Leave!" she cried angrily but her cry turned to one of indescribable hurt as her birthmarks not only flared but felt as if they were being torn from her again; she knew they weren't, but the sensation of immense pain did not waver from the knowing.

"World will bow before Trigon, dear daughter and this time, even your precious 'hope' cannot save you."

His words echoed through the pain as Raven felt herself consumed by the Hellfire.

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Raven's eyes shot open and she jumped, levitating into the air about five feet, whirling around as though she was surrounded by enemies...she felt she was and then when a hand gently touched her ankle, remembered where she was, and with whom. Slade eyed her quizzically and with equal gentleness, tugged almost childishly at her cloak's corner; she came down to sit beside him again.

"Nightmares," he said knowingly and she nodded, numb.

"Trigon," she smiled emptily and Slade's expression darkened considerably.

"What? But you—" he began.

"I know," she cut him off.

"So how..." Slade started.

"I don't know," again she cut him off and he sighed, vexed. No answers were available to her apparently and as such, none would be to him either. He accepted this, but not the way she seemed to have closed herself off now, not just from him but from the world; it was as if she was pretending as if she had no ties to this plane of existence at all and it struck some measure of fear in him.

"I do not like the look of you," he told her in softness that belied what he meant and she gave him a more heartfelt smile.

"Neither do I," was her rejoinder and he sighed again.

"You know what I mean," he said. She nodded.

"And I know what I must do but..."

"We need them...you need them...him," Slade guessed correctly.

"I do." There was a quiet in which Raven had the sinking feeling she had made a mistake in all of this, but then the older man spoke and he said it with a consideration that made her grateful that she had, even if it was a mistake in the end.

"Then I shall bring him to you." It wasn't that she was going to agree to this, but that he would offer it without being asked was a greater gift, perhaps.

"I shall seek him," she said and added, "I do not think he would be as receptive were it to be you who found him first." Slade nodded in understanding.

"You will return?" he asked, fearing brutal honesty now more than ever.

"I will," she promised and disappeared into her soul-self.

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A short hour or two after he had been gone, some part of the leader in Robin allowed himself to be led back instead of dragged back to the tower by his teammates. He had caused them enough worry and as they all gave him cursory glances as they entered the tower before him, he waved a hand to tell them to go ahead. He'd follow and they needn't worry he'd lie. This was where he needed to be, whether Raven was there or not and it was with a heavy burden and sense of duty that he yielded to this truth. Clouds were gathering, amassed in a gigantic gray tumult and he watched, somewhat fascinated at its speed; was this a natural storm? Thunder rumbled in the nearby vicinity and he was about to go in the tower when a familiar shadow surfaced in front of him and became the even more familiar shape of one dark and beautiful sorceress.

"Raven?" he almost didn't believe she was there. It began to rain but neither titan took notice. The weather was the last thing on their minds, the least of their problems and worries.

"Robin," she nodded curtly. He had an awful feeling in his stomach and no feeling at all in his chest where he knew his heartbeat was probably pounding furiously. The rain was pounding too, sudden and strong.

"You're okay." He breathed relief but in an instant forgot his grand plans to apologize, to explain the situation with Starfire, and most importantly and crucially he forgot to tell her what she needed to hear the most. Instead his expression hardened and his posture became stiff with defensiveness. "Where's Slade?" His voice was very, very cold, but Raven didn't even blink, didn't flinch, didn't give any indication she'd heard his accusatory question at all. He yelled this time. "Where's Slade?"

Somewhere nearby thunder reverberated through the earth and lightning flashed down, making the whites of her downcast eyes glimmer suspiciously.

But they couldn't be tears...this was Raven after all. He took a step toward her and stopped abruptly when she made her first motion in the whole of their encounter so far. She kicked at some rubble on the ground and a few stray rocks and pebbles rolled to hit against his boot.

"I have to tell you something," she said after what seemed an eternity. Her own voice was devastatingly calm to Robin and some of his madness toyed with what he knew to be real and what he feared might be real and what he knew wasn't real at all, but feared all the same.

"Answer my question, Raven," he ground out like a bad taste in his mouth.

"Robin just listen to me, this is more important," Raven said, her own anger flaring a little at his obstinacy. This was hard enough for her, couldn't he see that? Didn't he know? Clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides, Raven exhaled slowly and told herself to concentrate. He had a right to be angry...not stupid, some part of her mind told her, but angry maybe yes.

"No, stop evading my question!" he shouted into the storm and closed the gap between them, looking down at her with a knit brow that belied his confusion and his anger equally.

"Robin!" she yelled back now and something might have exploded behind them or near them, but they couldn't hear past the raging wind and rain and their own beleaguered voices. "Stop! Listen to me," she lowered her voice a little here. "You're not making this any easier for me," she added, sad and Robin thought he might have detected some disappointment there too. Disappointment? What did she have to be disappointed about? He wasn't the one who had gone off and practically betrayed the team to Slade, wasn't the one who'd gone off and protected the thrice blasted villain...so why? He couldn't bear the directness of her gaze suddenly and turned his back to her.

Because of this, he did not see her face fall and her eyes dim in veiled defeat, did not see her mask crumble like dust and disappear with the rain now plastering their clothes to their bodies like second skins, cape and cloak included.

Because of this, he did not see what he most needed to see.

"Now, will you listen?" she asked with a sigh that sounded like she was resigned to fate for the second time in her life. Robin only had one guess as to what she was going to tell him and the convoluted pain in his chest kept tightening, kept distracting him from knowing what to do to stop it, to make her take back the words she hadn't even said yet.

He didn't know if he could take it, the truth. All this turmoil wrapped itself in a clever fashion inside his mind, but outside he was an impassive wall and he shrugged indifference without turning to meet her stare.

"Fine," she breathed in and out. "First...there are two things but you have to know one first: I love you," she said in a somewhat guarded tone, but the storm blocked it out. He turned.

"What?" he frowned and she took a step back as though frightened. This was truly odd...Raven, afraid? "Raven, what did you say?" he prompted her again, irritation still high in his voice.

"I said I love you," she said and here her voice broke into pieces. "Idiot," she added half-heartedly and dropped her gaze to the gray rocks underneath their feet. Robin stared for a moment, dumbfounded. Hadn't she come to tell him she was leaving? Hadn't she come to tell him she—he winced internally—had fallen for Slade? Hadn't she come to tell him...anything but what she now told him?

He shook his head. "But I thought—" he began but she shook her head too.

"No, you didn't! You didn't think at all, not even a little!" He was rightly reproved because of course she was right. "I've loved you all this time. I just couldn't let it happen. I practically told you, months ago!" Her voice escalated in varying emotions—sadness, frustration, relief. "I would never betray you or the others. You are my family. I love you all," she bared her soul in the night and didn't care anymore that she did so.

"Raven..." he had had more angry words, more painful ones; he had had more of everything ready to say, everything except an answer to what she had just told him. So he stood there, facing her, speechless—for once. It was just as well, she had more to say.

"But you should know the truth, that you are not the only one I hold dear to me in that way," and there was the fine print. Robin could not keep the hurt from showing on his face, even if he had been trying, which he wasn't anymore. He had been hiding too long already, it seemed.

"Slade," his voice got caught in the wind and sounded very distorted when it made its way to Raven's ears, but she heard it and nodded.

"I know it makes little sense, none at all even," she spoke as if sheepish about something, as if embarrassed. "But it is what I know to be true, Robin," she whispered. It was a wonder he could hear her through the pelting rain and booming thunder but her words reached him fully.

"You are right, it doesn't make any sense," he was frustrated. Why? How could she even consider Slade? And...her voice interrupted his mental tirade, a tirade which the empath had felt mentally and winced at the edge of madness and vexation.

"I know...I know you like Starfire now, but I just thought you deserved to know how I felt about you...and him," she said then and he remembered she had been in his mind when the innocent Tameranian had kissed him. He waved his hands in a wildly negative gesture.

"No, no, I don't. I don't. I only like you," he affirmed and when she gave him a skeptical look, he took her hands in his and held them to where she could feel the heavy pulse of his heart. "I only love you."

"The kiss?" she wavered in her disbelief.

"A misunderstanding," he insisted and she searched his face for the truth. He wasn't sure that she could find it without being able to see his eyes but she must have found something because he could see her posture relax ever so slightly. She tucked some hair behind her ear, and dropped her scrutiny to the earth again, but he didn't want her to look at the ground anymore; he wanted her to look at him. To his pleasure, she did not shrink back or blow something up when he delicately took her chin between his fingers and directed her eyes back up to meet his. "That's all."

"That's all?" she echoed. This was more complicated than she had expected. She had expected him to say yes, he did love the alien girl after all and she had expected more pain for her heart would break in a sense, having loved him for so long. She had expected all of that, none of which had come, except maybe the heartbreak, but now it was for a different reason. It was for the plight now at hand. Now not only did she love two living souls entirely, but both returned—on some level—her feelings and on top of that, there was Trigon's return...

"That's...everything," he promised and brought her close, close enough that he could wrap his arms around her petite frame and hold her; against the rain, against his own blindness, against the world, and he realized he felt alone in their togetherness. It was a comfortable kind of solitude though, the kind that contradicted itself because how could two people claim to be solitary while standing so near that their twisting auras merged into one? How indeed, for it was not at all reasonable, but feelings, he mused briefly, seemed to fall outside of that category altogether. And that aside, he wasn't quite certain he cared anymore for typical reason anymore. So thinking, he let his anger ebb and reduce until it drifted away like irksome flotsam and focused instead on holding Raven, something he thought he would never be allowed to do.

It wasn't to last of course. She pushed him away, gently, but surely.

"This must wait...I cannot tell you I love you alone and so...we cannot," she gave him a tragic and delicate half-smile as she added, seconds later, without any smile at all, "I told you there were two things, though I suppose you didn't hear that either..." she trailed off and then when Robin threw her a probing gaze, finished, "There is also the matter of my father." At this Robin's expression of rejection dissipated and was replaced by one of horrified disbelief. That...creature...that demon...still alive, still able to get to this place...to her? His mind reeled.

"Trigon?" he asked weakly. She nodded and a shiver rippled through her.

"Come home," he gestured at the entrance to the T-Tower and then held out his hand. "Please Rae, just for now...I'm...I'm not asking for an answer," he clarified with some trouble. He did _want_ an answer; he had wanted one as soon as she confirmed his suspicions about her feelings for Slade.

But now was not the time and here Robin regained some of that wise sanity that made him fit to be leader of the titans and more significantly, their friend. He could sense Raven's fear and her longing, her shame and her disbelief, her confusion and frustration; they had a bond. That aside though, he could see the exhaustion in her and the truth was that really she was no thinner or slighter, not injured outwardly visible to the eye, but in spite of that, the image she made was like a lost psyche, one ravaged and deeply shadowed, and it made him ache for her. Here was Robin, the one that clung to virtue and worked to be what he could and he was resilient as Raven took his hand after another moment of consideration, and ushered her as gently into the tower as he might have brought in a bird with broken wings.

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Back in his own dwelling, Slade rolled two silver rings in his right hand absently and thought on the return of the empath and with some apprehension, then thought on the chance of losing her before she did.

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This thought troubled him to the point of no sleep that night and he did not know that, likewise, the empath of his thoughts and the rival of her affections did not sleep either, if for different reasons, and the three staved off night. One did so while doing some useless pacing as he held the curious rings, while the other held her mug of herbal tea in two hands as she questioned the reflection she found in its steaming center, and the last stood still with his back against the wall of his room, trying desperately to think of something to give them hope to fend off the antithesis of hope itself, for the second time.

When this last one came up with nothing, he left his room to stand by the second, who smiled over her shoulder at him gratefully, and his heart cringed at the thought that that smile might be given to somebody else in the end. But he kept his words silent. Such things had to take a back seat to what they now faced, by duty and by necessity both. Still, having her look at him like that as dawn broke over them gently was something he had missed dreadfully in her absence and, pushing thoughts of the other man aside, settled to thinking that for now her smile was everything to him, and a man who had everything could not complain.

Even with the second seemingly inevitable end of the world edging its way around the corner.

As for the first man, holding the rings, he too watched the morning come and, finding himself restless without the company he had grown accustomed to, picked a book from his extensive library only to find it was one of his missing company's favorites, dog-eared and written on in neat, finite penmanship. Slade paused, thinking to close it, but thought better of it and sat with his back against the bookcase, reading line after line of poetic license.

* * *

So...thoughts? Sorry, school and all this other stuff and the complexity of this story's development have been keeping me slower than usual. But I had to figure out how best to introduce the definiteness of the triangle AND Trigon's return so um...forgiveness?

-Rei, apologetic


	9. Chapter 8: ellipse

Teen Titans is not mine.

But if it were... um...never mind.

Anyway, thank you for the reviews of encouragement. I understand this has taken a bit of a twist that a lot of people don't care for, but it's something I wanted to explore as this is 'fan' fiction. There is a reason Slade and Robin are people whose love I attempt to portray equally and it will eventually be made clear—sooner than later, since the next chapter is probably the last unless I do an epilogue but now I'm getting ahead of myself here. Read on though, if you might, please.

In any case, thank you again to the reviewers and those who read this story in general. It is appreciated.

-rei

* * *

**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

**Chapter Eight: ...**

* * *

He paced furiously. She'd gotten used to it over the years though and had learned to leave him to it; it helped him think, or so he insisted. It just made her kind of dizzy and quite a bit annoyed, but she let it slide today. It was her first day home in a while after all. 

"Boy Wonder, you're going to make a hole in the floor," she said wryly, flicking some uncooperative hair out of her amethyst eyes with her index finger. He paused, looked up.

"I'll fix it," was his cheeky reply.

"Because you're _so_ good at home improvement," Raven said, sarcasm tinting every syllable and now Robin scowled.

"Shut up you," he pretended to be insulted and went back to pacing. Raven sighed.

"There isn't a plan in the world that will make it look like we can win Robin," she said after giving him another ten minutes to make that hole in the floor—she could swear she was beginning to see through it—and tilted her head to one side. "You know that, right?"

"I know that," he conceded. Raven crossed her arms over herself and leaned against the glass window of the living area; should she tell him now? Eyeing him speculatively, she decided it was as good a time as any.

"I need you to let him work with us," she said calmly.

"I don't see why," he replied with equal calm.

"He can help," she reasoned.

"I doubt it," he invalidated.

"It's the end of the world...again Robin. We need all the help we can get." Raven tried to be both no-nonsense and unruffled.

"From the man who was a big part of the reason for the first, yes that makes sense," he all but sneered and she flinched.

"You're being foolish," she chastised, posture going more and more rigid.

"And you're letting your feelings cloud your judgment! Raven, he's Slade, our enemy, the man who delivered you to oblivion and took you from me!" He paused. "From us," he amended but he had meant it really the first way.

"I think it's you whose letting their feelings get in the way, but have it your way Robin." And she stalked off to the room she hadn't inhabited for a time she now realized as both too long and not long enough. Robin watched her go and now lost feeling of the warmth the sun gave with morning, only noticing that it seemed far too bright for such a dark day.

He crossed his arms and eyed his reflection with no small amount of loathing.

_There, you've driven her away again, genius_, he scowled at his translucent self on the glass and continued to berate: _you get her back and know you've got...his mind paused here with a wince...competition. The end of the world is coming and this time no one knows what to do at all, we've got no direction. And the last thing we need is for you and Raven to start clawing each other's eyes out—especially when you know you love her. Get it together, boy blunder!_

"Robin, dude?" Beast Boy had a hand on his shoulder. All the titans—save Raven—stood a little behind him. "You doing alright?" Robin sighed. They were worried about him now.

"We've got to figure out some kind of plan," he said after a moment and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Does friend Raven have any ideas on how to defeat the Trigon a second time?" Starfire inquired hopefully. Robin shook his head.

"We're all in the dark." And now Robin considered their position. Slade had helped them in the end against Trigon, and apparently was able to 'feel' for Raven—not that Robin in any way felt this was a good thing, but facts were facts and his mind was painstakingly analytical at times—and they were only five. Six was the devil's calling of course, his mind reminded him too, but he barely held back a snort of derision. Such superstitions were surely the kinds of things Raven's bastard of a father fed off of. "I think..." he trailed off, unable to finish with his intended 'Slade may be able to help' or 'Raven thinks Slade should assist us' and the like.

He just couldn't do it.

"Man, what?" Cyborg prompted, unnerved and showing it in annoyed tones.

"...nothing," Robin said and turned to go find Raven.

"Man, what are we supposed to do?" Cyborg yelled after him.

"Hope," Robin said softly, but all hear him and all looked at each other with similar feelings of misgiving.

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"Raven," he sighed against the metal door and then thrust out his hands as it opened unexpectedly and he fell onto the floor. He looked up at an amused face, Raven's face.

"That was graceful," she said, light in her irises dancing.

"Does that smile mean I'm forgiven for being an idiot at the worst possible time?" he asked, wanting to be charming in the face of all of this, wanting for her to keep smiling.

She looked so beautiful when she smiled—not that tragic beautiful that she seemed to have a strong lock on most of the time, but a tranquil, wise beautiful that was beyond personal or interpersonal tragedies.

"Maybe," she allowed and Robin pushed himself up off of the floor, hearing the door close behind him absently.

"Any ideas yet?" he queried and her smile left her. The leader in him told him it had to be discussed now, but the rest of him felt distinctly colder without the slight upward curve of the empath's lips.

"No," she said and he thought distinctly that she had just lied to him. He arched a brow. Why was she lying?

"You can tell me Rae, even if you don't think it will work," he made a guess.

"No, Robin, I really haven't thought of anything," she insisted.

The dark of her room was suffocating.

Robin tried to explore their bond, to explore her through their bond and found no trace of the lie he had been certain she was telling him seconds before. Was it imagined? Did she tell him the truth? He probed more, straining to the point where he almost didn't hear her next words.

"Trust me," she said and washed his doubt away.

"I trust you," he said in return. He stepped toward her; he couldn't help it. She drew him like a cold man to fire. Alluring and something he wanted...something he needed...he neared her. And he thought she might accept his advance but with a suddenness he could not account for, she fell to her knees, clutching her head as if in unspeakable pain. "Raven!" he knelt beside her.

"I-it's him...he's…he's coming..." she tried not to whimper and was at least pacified with her own broken speech; broken words she would allow; cowardice in the face of her father, she would not allow. He was not deserving. A searing burn ripped through her entire body and she cried out, collapsing, and Robin's eyes widened, horrified, as very familiar marks made their appearance all over her exposed skin.

"Rae...Rae!" he shouted to reach her even though he held her no less than a foot from him, cradled in his arms. "Raven, listen to me. Listen _for_ me, Raven, we need you. We can't do this without you," he intoned worriedly, desperately. "Listen for my voice, Raven." He did his best to guide her through their bond, over the rocky memories of her smoke and cinder past, through the horrible years of being alone before the titans and being rejected by others because of her 'destiny', beyond even the first defeat of Trigon and then he saw some things he was perhaps never meant to see, but saw anyway because Raven was too weak momentarily to keep them from him. He saw Slade reaching up over her shoulder and handing her a book; he saw her smiling at the man in thanks. He saw her leaning against the man's shoulder and him offering soft support, like lovers in the park on a sunny day even though the two were in what looked like a very threadbare medical room. He saw her allow him to embrace her.

And almost, he broke the connection to her right then and there.

Almost.

But no, Robin could not do that. For all his admitted pigheadedness sometimes, his stubbornness and hate of Slade and possessiveness of Raven who was not his to possess, for all of that, and beyond it all, his love for her was achingly honest. So he kept holding on. Fates were kinder more or less, for that was the last image he saw of the two dark souls through the bond. Then he saw himself, and her, in the rain. He saw how angry he looked, how unforgiving and he also saw how much Raven hated herself when she told him all she had to tell. That she loved him, that she did not love only him, these were things that were tearing her apart even now and he sensed it as if it were his own heart shredding itself under the sharpest of blades. In a way, it was.

"Raven, if you can hear me," he spoke to the now still form of the sorceress, laying in his arms and looking paler than usual. He took a deep breath. "If you can hear me, stop hurting yourself. You can't...help who you love," he forced out. And it wasn't that he didn't mean it. No, he meant it definitely. For if he could have actually chosen, some brutally truthful part of him admitted he would possibly have chosen Star, if only to be spared this feeling of wretchedness. He forced it out because by saying this and assuming she could hear him, was listening, he was admitting that if she chose Slade, he could do nothing else but let her...not that it was up to him, but the meaning was clear. "You can't help that when you're around them you foul things up pretty badly a lot of the time, and fight with them and make them turn away from you," he rambled on and now of course he wasn't talking about her and his arch nemesis. He was talking about him and her.

"R-Robin?" she coughed and her eyes blinked up at him questioningly. He held his breath not knowing if he really wanted her to have heard all of that after all. It was very fine of him to spout such words to her without an answer, but those amethyst eyes terrified some part of him with their beauty and their honesty. "Thank you." So she had heard after all, he thought softly, almost regretfully, but pushed any idea of regret away and simply held her closer.

"Any time Rae."

They stayed like that for a time that was long but not long enough and sooner than either of them wanted, Raven made herself scramble out of Robin's embrace. She tried to stand but the world heaved around her unkindly and she had to lean heavily on the wall. Robin jumped to aid her but she held up an allaying hand.

"No, I'm fine," she said with some effort and, still leaning on the wall, held up her arms and hands to examine them; the markings were still there. "Well, not really," she admitted dryly and scowled at the red lines. Robin approached her and took one of her hands in his, scrutinizing.

"These...these are not the same, are they?" he asked, wondering how in God's name he could remember things he didn't understand.

"No, they're not," she confirmed. He asked her to continue and explain with a mere glance and she frowned. "They are not for the creation of the 'portal' as before, but these tell something else, something I haven't yet deciphered; they are older markings."

"How can you not know?" Robin asked, just the slightest bit suspicious.

"I'm not sure," she replied calmly, and he believed her because he had no other choice.

After all, why would Raven lie to them, to him?

At the end of the world, what need was there for lies?

But the thought unsettled him long after he had left her room and plagued him through the rest of the day and the night to come.

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She ran a hand through her hair, irritated. It was the second day she was home and she had come out for a cup of herbal tea that now sat cold, to one side of her 'excavation' area as she had dubiously titled it. She hadn't left her room since going to get the tea and it was a real mess, books and scrolls and parchments lay everywhere.

Multiple books floated around her as she scrambled through page after page. She had actually discovered what the markings meant and it wasn't good.

It wasn't good at all.

But she couldn't tell Robin that. His hope held the team from breaking at points like these and she knew that. He knew it too and she hoped he would forgive her for lying like that. He had of course first suspected her lie, but she was a master of pretend and mental barriers; so eventually he believed her.

Guiltily, she knew some of this was because of his love for her and she hated herself again. She was doing a lot of that lately.

In her mental lapse, some books fell in undignified piles to the ground. All these books and he still had so many more than her, she mused and her heart missed the mahogany study and its owner. Slade, she thought sadly. How strange this is, was her second musing.

Strange, her mind repeated and then shoved her back to reality.

She had a Hell King to stop, she reminded herself in annoyed tones.

"There must be something!" she exclaimed to herself, four hours later, having now taken to manually thumbing through each page of every book, just in case, she gasped in surprise as her room seemed to disappear around her.

"Daughter," the nothing greeted.

"Bastard," she intoned harshly and bit her tongue to keep from screaming as new pains tore through her, not just where the markings were, but all through her.

"Insolent pawn," the nothing spat and as Raven was just barely aware of her room coming back to its normal form rather than the empty void it had just become, she heard his last mocking words, "I come of my own power, daughter. You are no longer necessary but you will be there for it all. You will watch as your 'friends' fall one by one and your 'home' becomes ash. You will be there and you will be helpless to stop me."

And then she was in her room, by herself.

Paranoid, she whirled around, eyeing every corner and shadow with suspicion until she was certain it was just her and her room. Ascertained, she fell to her knees and gave a mental apology to the book she landed on, nearly ripping a page out.

But then something caught her eyes and she moved so that she could pick the tome up, dust it off and examine the text and symbols, eyes glimmering as she read further.

"No, no I won't," she whispered to herself. "I will never be helpless again."

With that thought, she stood and buried the book under her pillows before exiting her room. It had been four hours or so after all. The others were probably worried and Trigon was at least truthful about one thing. He was coming. She could feel it, his presence nearing, and it would only be a few more hours at most.

The others turned to her as she entered the common room.

"Trigon is coming," she told them bluntly.

"How long until the Trigon is...here?" Starfire asked anxiously.

"Four hours tops," Raven answered immediately and the others sucked in their breath sharply. Four hours?

"I know it seems hopeless, but we have to believe," Robin told the worried faces and then he looked specifically at Raven. "If we trust each other, we can do this. We've done it before you guys. Not a lot of people can say that," he tried to bring some light and it was a little effective. Cyborg gave a slow thumbs up and Beast Boy shrugged as if to say 'why not?' and Starfire even cracked a small smile that dared to do just that: hope.

"Everything will be fine," Raven heard herself say and was as surprised as the others were but she found something in her to continue, "Robin's right. We just have to trust each other." She directed the attentions back to their leader skillfully.

All heads snapped up as the alarms blared.

"Intruder?" Robin asked Cyborg who nodded and everyone shrugged, everyone but Raven who knew who it was. They all ran to catch the uninvited guest but Raven stopped them with a shout.

"Wait!" They turned. "I'll go." She sent a meaningful look to Robin. The others watched his expression become very shadowed, but he nodded and motioned for the rest of them to stay back. He could not invite that...that man in, but he would not keep her from him. That was up to her.

He watched the doors close behind her.

"Who is it?" Cyborg asked, having read the two birds' exchange pretty accurately as two people who understood each other even if they didn't agree.

"Slade," came the bitter answer and when the titans sent him crazy-eyed stares he shook his head. "He is...not our concern right now."

And maybe it was the shock that kept them all from running after their resident sorceress.

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He stood there, not certain his coming was wise and then seconds later knowing it wasn't, but not caring. He wore his mask knowing the others would be there, would probably attack him too. He waited, hoping she would come to him.

The doors slid open and he didn't look poised for battle, but he never did and he always was.

His stance lightened ever so slightly as the familiar form of Raven levitated to him.

"I thought I might be so fortunate," he told her.

"You're very foolish," she told him.

"I told you that," he said and added, "You can't say I didn't warn you."

"We fools don't heed warnings so well, but two fools can perhaps cancel out each other's foolishness," she replied smoothly.

"Those markings," he noticed now and his gaze darkened. She nodded and he stepped closer to her letting her come down to meet him, leaving the air, the rock beneath her making no sound as she landed. He raised a hand to frame her face; he had so feared he might never see her again, much less be so close to do this, and could not pass any opportunity any more, regardless of consequences.

"Slade," her voice reminded him that his name was not a curse and he loved her all the more. For as alien a thing as it was to now feel the warmth she offered, it was no less appreciated or longed for; it might have been more so and as she leaned into his touch, he was all the more certain of it.

"He will not take you from me," he said and she glanced up at him. "Trigon," he clarified, but his double meaning did not escape her. He noticed the veil in her eyes drop down and he added smoothly, "We will find a way to defeat him." More quietly he also said, "I missed you."

"I was gone less than three days," she smiled at him and he shrugged.

"These kinds of feelings have lain dormant so long, they have now taken to wrapping me up in them and I find I cannot go a day without reading poetry I don't entirely understand—though your footnotes help, I admit—and also that I keep looking at the door of my study, expecting an annoyed pair of amethyst eyes to berate me for one thing or another," he explained. The amusement and sincerity were both evident in his tone and her heart warmed at both as she considered how best to reply.

"Like Hell you don't understand those verses," was her dry response eventually and he laughed, understanding her own humor well.

"I identify with a little more than I say," he admitted and she gave him a look that said a man of eloquence like that understood more than a little, but she wouldn't press the matter.

"Why did you come?" she asked finally.

"For you," he answered in truth and then elucidated, "To help...if you will let me."

"I can hardly deny you anything, it seems," she said partially to him but as much to herself as well and he might have kissed her...but the doors behind them opened and the other titans came out.

It was just as well, they both felt and turned to face the team. When Robin's stare noticed Slade's hand on Raven's shoulder, his jaw clenched but to his credit, that was all the indication he gave of his upset.

"Titans," Slade greeted with a coldness Raven saw right through and she, now noticing Robin's stare, slipped almost imperceptibly out from under Slade's hand. Slade took notice but did not show it.

"Slade," Robin returned and the malice was there but he kept it to tones rather than giving way to fists. There was a pause that was more than uncomfortable and none of them failed to notice the rolling clouds above; they didn't look like the normal atmospheric tumult either, for the clouds had the oddest tint of red…blood red.

"He will help us," Raven stated and feeling the heavy gazes of his other teammates, Robin nodded curtly.

"Very well."

Neither man made a move to show a sign of truce, a shake of hands or the like; no, they knew each other too well for that and in some odd way, had too much respect for each other to put up such a ridiculous pretense.

So, all of them stood there: Raven a little in front of Slade and Robin a little in front of Beast Boy, Cyborg and Starfire, and every one of them was lost in their own thoughts.

She didn't know if hours really passed or not, but Raven recognized the burning sensation in her markings before they even started to glow.

"He comes," she whispered and they all eyed her as if asking her to take those horrible words back.

But she couldn't. And the sky was definitely all red now, red as the fire that had destroyed all of Azarath, red like her father's eyes, red like death, because death was red...not black or colorless. Black was the color of quiet, which few people understood and colorlessness was a trait of ambiguity. No, red was death and slaughter, brutality and rage.

Red was the sky as clouds parted in claw marks and four glowing eyes looked down at the world he was set on destroying once more, this time, forever.

"Robin," Starfire's voice wavered. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. Such a simple gesture still did its job even now and the powerful Tameranian's resolve strengthened itself anew as her own eyes glowed hot green, ready to defend all she loved and held dear. Cyborg shook his head but readied himself, walking to stand in line next to Robin, neck and neck, together and his leader threw him that cocky grin that got him so often into trouble the bionic man who simply returned it now. If they were going to do this, they might as well be reckless about it in some ways. It made it easier, somehow. Beast Boy actually walked all the way over to Raven and tapped her on the shoulder, breaking her from her staring contest with the four demon eyes of her father.

"Here Rae...remember, for luck," he gave her a cheeky smile and pressed one penny into her palm, curling her fingers over it with his own. "We believe in you, alright?" And he retreated to stand by Starfire who floated next to Robin who stood next to Cyborg. Raven smiled back at the changeling in thanks and then turned to Slade.

"Trust them," she said to him gently, imploringly, and referenced the team she could honestly say she loved with all of her heart, regardless of her sarcasm and sometimes solitary behavior. "Trust him," she repeated now for them to hear, the plea inherent in what it was she asked of them as she nodded her head in Slade's direction. Their eyes told her they didn't want to, but they would and she accepted this. They were being generous, she knew, but felt heartened as Robin came forward and stood on the side that Slade was not, still beside her though, with her. She felt her other friends come closer too, standing just behind her, and she held the penny tighter.

They could do this...they had to do this.

"What difference does trust make to the doomed?" Trigon's voice clamped like a vice down upon them but Raven's eyes glowed white and defiant at this, his superiority only angering her...driving her.

"You are a monster and will never know or understand," she said, emotionless, and she flew to meet him head on as the rest of Trigon materialized into their world and seemed to fill it with his awfulness.

Slade exchanged a short look with Robin that said they shared a similar fear for the daughter of this demon lord and with an almost civil nod to Robin that said they understood each other for now, the older man attacked.

"Titans, Go!" Robin yelled as he himself rushed forward.

And it began.

* * *

So there was some Robin and Raven moment-ish things in there. I wanted to portray that their connection is strong regardless of conflicting feelings and that when you get down to it, they care about each other. With Slade it is a new thing all over to feel and he fears losing Raven and she is fearful still that she can feel for him at all, hence the big question mark with that part of the triangle. All will like I said at the beginning, be made as clear as it might, next time though. 

Review if you have time please and as always, thanks for reading this at all!

Next Chapter: **'For the Birds'**

Heh, if you've noticed, the last one, the one before it, and this one all are separated parts of the title, so um, yeah, last part next.

-rei

p.s. note that a loose meaning behind the cliché of 'for the birds' is referencing something that in the end is "from a very questionable source" and "out of our hands"


	10. Chapter 9: for the birds

Teen Titans does not belong to Rei.

Rei is rather upset about this.

But never mind.

Last chapter, unless you want an epilogue. Review please if you can. Thank you much, and now, onward.

For those who have so faithfully and generously read and reviewed this somewhat unorthodox story.

But especially for Cherry Jade, who rocks.

* * *

**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

**Chapter Nine: for the birds**

**

* * *

**

She waited until the last possible moment. She really did.

Because she had hoped there was another way.

She had hoped and now she knew it was up to them, up to them to hope after all of this was over.

Beast Boy had an unsightly gash that looked like it might leave a sizable scar across his right eye and render him blind in it, while Cyborg had lost an arm and Starfire was all around badly beaten from being hit so many times. Robin and Slade, by way of sheer tenacity at this point that had nothing to do with either man's undeniable skills or quickness of wit were still fighting stronger than ever, but the truth was looming on them. And the truth was, however hard they were all working to beat this monster who called himself Trigon back to where he came from, never to return, they were fading.

They were fading and one by one, they began to drop.

Raven herself threw onslaught after onslaught at her father only to be repelled by one particular blast that sent her through the side of a building; she could swear he'd knocked her eyes loose and that they were rolling around in her head like broken pieces, but she gathered herself up as quickly as she could. Her vision cleared enough and she sped back to the scene of red and ravaging.

She bit back a cry as she saw that in the span of her less than a minute of absence, her friends—and more than friends—had somehow gotten further injured, new wounds bleeding and limbs twisted in directions they weren't meant to twist in. Wincing, she hurried to them.

"Man I don't know how much more of this we can take," Cyborg said through gritted teeth and Beast Boy nodded.

"But we will," Starfire amended gently but firmly. Her Tameranian blood was ringing in her ears, even though her own injuries were substantial too.

"We have to," Robin added with the tone a leader knew he must use. Slade said nothing but seemed to agree in his silence. Raven surveyed them in her own quiet way, not missing a single scratch as she laid it all to memory. Slade must have noticed her scrutiny.

"What is it?" he asked and even Robin could not deny the oddly gentle tone the older man used as he addressed the cloaked sorceress.

"I think I—" she began. An eerie laugh interrupted her though.

"It is pointless," Trigon towered over them and sent the largest blast yet, flames abounding.

They braced themselves for impact, for raging burns, for oblivion...for nothing and for everything...but it was nothing that came and they each opened their eyes tentatively. And then they knew. For Raven stood, in the middle of all of them, one hand raised as imperiously as a Queen's, and from that hand a shield of glowing white had sprung, curving around them in angry white flares.

"The markings..." Robin trailed off.

They glowed the same white as her shield and the sinking feeling Robin had in his heart was mirrored by the sentiments of Slade who had his own realization: the marks were not those of Scath. He had wanted them to believe it, wanted her to believe it so that she would keep from finding their true origin. But Raven had found it and now she stood, clad all in white, power emanating from her fingertips.

And it burned like it was Scath, like he really was hurting her through it and she had to fight with everything in her to keep from breaking down from the pain it caused even as it gave her the power to combat the greater evil. If it was what she must weather to be able to wield the weapon that could defeat Trigon, she would do so and do it with as much control as possible. She did not want her friends, her loved ones, to know it hurt her.

Some fraction of it must have crossed her face though.

"Raven, stop, we can handle this," Slade's voice almost broke her concentration, so deep was his concern, but she shook it off and her face was deceptively blank. "Raven, don't...I know what you are doing, what those marks mean now..." Slade asked of her what she could not give, knowing she could not give it, and fell silent when she gave no response.

She would do what she saw fit, as ever before, and none could stop her. Slade hated her for it.

He loved her for it.

"She is—" Robin began, voice hoarse with sorrow as he too recognized Raven's actions, as he watched her leave the curved shield over them and make herself vulnerable as she flew out of it to face her father anew.

"—sacrificing herself," Slade finished bitterly. He spoke as one who knew what was to come, as one who knew that what was to come was bleaker than anything one could imagine, and knew worse, that he could do nothing to stop it. And he, he who had murdered many and committed other unspeakable crimes, he who had also somehow come to love the resonating empath, turned his gaze from her brilliance. To see it shatter would destroy him.

He looked back.

Destruction was preferable over life without her...destruction was merciful.

"Azarath..." Raven began to chant; Trigon made a deadly swipe at her, but missed.

"...metrion..." she continued and Starfire was watching, open-mouthed even as Beast Boy regained his footing and also stood to stare in horrified wonder. Cyborg could not stand, but watched with a mute solemnity that made him seem much older than he really was. The colorless illumination around Raven was growing and they could feel the heat of it even through the barrier she'd left carefully around them. Trigon yelled in fury and shot at her, clawed at her, did everything, but always seemed to miss.

Slade crushed something in his fist.

Robin held his breath.

"..zinthos." she finished as a whisper, not a cry of war or triumph, but a final word full of power and pre-defined intent.

What happened next, no one would agree on later but what looked to have happened was something like the markings ripping themselves from Raven's skin. They seemed to make an eight pointed star and shoot light in every direction possible. It appeared the light pierced Raven right through her chest but there was no pained cry or scream, so it was hard to tell. Then, and this they would agree on after all, she became her soul self, magnificent and resonant as a silver-white sun, wings spread wide and radiance almost blinding. It became in an instant, entirely a ghostly silver rather than the heavenly white.

And they knew what it must mean, but forced themselves to believe it could be otherwise.

"Raven, we're with you!" Robin shouted and added this mentally too.

"Let us help," Slade yelled, angry that he could not step beyond this pallid barrier of safety Raven had concocted for them. _Take my strength_, he begged her, _use me as you may, just don't leave us...don't leave me, _he thought desperately, brokenly, savagely.

Robin was thinking similar things, but he had a priceless gift that the would-be villain at his side did not. He had a bond.

With that bond, he shouted to her:

_Don't you leave me Raven!_

And he didn't expect a reply so he was more or less surprised to hear her answer him: _I will never leave you, Robin._

But then her presence in his mind was gone again and he mourned for the loss, unable to step beyond her white barrier to aid her.

There was a shout of agony: Trigon.

There was blindness: a wave of healing.

There was nothing awry and it looked like any other day with a blue sky in the city of Jump.

Except there was a crumpled figure laying on the roof of Titans' Tower, a figure that five others ran to, two of them ahead of the others by great distance.

"No," one breathed and knelt to cradle the fallen girl, uncaring of the stony glare he received from the other man who settled for kneeling on the other side of Raven's still form. Her skin was as white as her torn cloak and her hair fell in unkempt streams across her face; the man holding her brushed them aside and tucked them behind her ear as he had done before. The other caressed her face, half expecting her to open her eyes and ask him what in Azarath's name he thought he was doing.

But there was nothing, not even a final breath to say good-bye.

She was gone.

The world was safe.

But she was gone.

And it made little difference to either man that the sky began to rain, made little difference that they were so close to each other they could have easily killed one another, made little difference that they would live to see tomorrow.

Because she wouldn't...she hadn't.

And that made all the difference to the two estranged men, feeling nothing short of damned to be stuck in the world of the living.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Her face was wide with her sad, amethyst eyes, watching them hold her body, now lifeless. She wanted very much to go to them, to tell them she was grateful and she was sorry and she loved them.

She wanted to say she was sorry she had lied, even if they had known it in the final moments.

But she could not. With life her bond was severed as easily as if she had simply slipped a ring off of her finger and she was unable to contact them. Raven's chest was heavy and, alarmed, she felt tears trickling down her cheeks in slow rivulets.

At first she tried to claw them away.

But then she looked closer on the scene of the roof top, saw Slade and Robin, Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Starfire. She looked and her heart ached so deeply that she let go of her pride and inhibitions and did something she had not done since she could not even remember.

She wept, hard and long, shoulders shaking with the desolation of being parted from the ones she loved most. What was there to this after-life for her except morbid loneliness and an unbearable, holy whiteness, painfully similar to the power she had used to expel herself and her father from the world of the living? What else was there?

_Nothing_, her soul cried.

_Nothing_...

And then she thought she sensed slight warmth.

It was soft and subtle, so at first she did not give it any thought, but then it became a distinct pressure on her right arm. Glassy-eyed, Raven looked up.

"Well done, daughter," a kind voice said, and she recognized it, immediately turning to face a beautiful woman in a white, hooded robe.

"Mother?" she gaped in spite of herself. "He destroyed you as well in the end, didn't he?" she whispered, stricken. Arella nodded in her graceful way but eyed her daughter with something Raven slowly realized was not only love, but genuine respect.

"You have done something to be proud of, Raven," Arella told her soothingly and, considering a moment, then pulled her daughter into the warmth only a mother could provide. Raven fell into her Arella's embrace and, to her initial shock, she found she wept even more at this. Arella too was startled at first by her daughter's open reaction, but understanding overcame the older woman and she simply held Raven closer. "In time, daughter, things may not seem so bleak."

"Mother," Raven said and stopped there, letting the rest of what she meant to say hang between them in a short silence. Arella shook her head sadly.

"It was, if you will excuse the phrasing, for the birds, Raven." Her mother said and Raven frowned.

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"It is a cliché—I am surprised you do not know it—and it is to say that it was out of your hands...beyond what you did and believe me my child, you did all that you could," Arella explained patiently and added, "For the birds, up to fate, destined...they are one and the same, if you will, even though none of it was part of any prophecy." Further elucidation had Raven nodding in comprehension dully. _For the birds_? That reminded her of aliases, which reminded her of Robin. And clichés reminded her of literature—some good and some bad—which reminded her of Slade.

"I can never see them again?" Raven asked brokenly. Arella's heart ached for her daughter's loss and she chose her next words with the utmost care.

"You may, in time, my daughter," she said and though tears continued to fall from her eyes, Raven accepted this, if only because she knew it was the last truth she had to hold onto.

And she _would_ hold on.

And she _would_ wait.

As long as she could...she would hold on and wait...

But she did not know the temporariness of the option at the time.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The burial was private, short, and not religious in any sense except maybe for the seriousness laced in the expressions of those present. A young changeling stood, bleary-eyed, next to a red-eyed Tameranian princess who looked like she had lost her best friend. Their hands were intertwined, a show of support for one another. A bionic man stood to their left, as unmoving as a statue, and he seemed to not see any thing at all, but the truth was he saw more than he ever wanted to, and it hurt him.

Then there were two young men, one clearly a little older than the other, but not by too much. One had jet black hair and an eye-mask that seemed terribly out of place with his white collared shirt, black tie and slacks. The other had sand-white hair that fell slightly over his one visible blue eye; the other had a patch over it; and he wore all black. These last two seemed to have a silent understanding no one could ever hope to analyze but also one that everyone would inevitably notice once they got within a foot of the odd pair.

"It was not your fault," the older one said finally. The other did not look up, but he did respond.

"Or yours," he conceded gruffly.

"I did not think I could love someone again," the older man volunteered one last admission.

"I did not know I could love someone at all...not like that," came the dark and desolate response and they were silent again as cold earth was thrown too hastily over the small grave. At the head was a stone marker but it was not adorned with a raven or the like.

No. She would've hated that. They knew.

Instead, at the top of the arched marker was a rose made of stone; a rose was for love after all, not stupid flings or several weeklong charades of sweethearts and so on. No, the rose was for deeper love, the love that made a person whole or broke them beyond repair...or both. The rose was stopped in time, and as still as the forever that would never come.

And it was a reminder, especially for the two young men standing closest to it, a tangible something that told them to never forget because love, for all that it could not last, was important.

In fact, it was probably the most important thing of all.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Come morning, Slade had disappeared. This was not unexpected and life continued as well or unwell as it might have for the next couple of months.

Robin went more often than the others to visit Raven's grave, well, more than most. Another soul also visited, but he was as elusive as the shadows he hid in and the only proof of him actually ever being there was the fresh and beautiful white rose he left at the base of the marker every day. Robin knew it was Slade. Who else would leave such a poignant gift? Slade also read verses from marked books to the headstone, but Robin could not have known this because the older man was always very careful to only visit his beloved when no one else was remotely around.

It was just as well. The leader of the titans did not know for certain how he would react—or let himself react—if he were to meet face-to-face with Slade again, without Raven between them as a barrier of pleading truce. So whenever he saw the white rose—every day—he did not disturb it; rather, he tried to ignore it.

Robin himself brought violets. He knew it was not her favorite flower, but they reminded him of her, and in that, he found reason to choose them rather than a dozen lilies or a thousand daffodils. There was also the fact that he knew Raven had rather hated daffodils—yellow was far from her favorite color—and at this memory, he smiled on one particular day's visit.

"Three today," he spoke to the grave and laid the trio of flora at the base beside the white rose; Slade had already been there it seemed. Today the ex-nemesis had laced baby's breath in with the rose and Robin arched a brow and then understood. Of course he remembered as well, the day today was.

The exact day in the third month that…she left them. His blue eyes took in the words on her marker like swallowing a rock; it never got any easier but he forced himself to look anyway, fearful lest he delude himself about what had really happened.

_Raven, always beloved, always remembered_

That was all it said.

He hadn't been able to think of anything else that sat right with him. Robin sighed.

"I miss you," he said.

No answer...like usual.

Some part of him kept hoping for one, even knowing it would likely never come.

He turned to leave.

_I miss you too, Richard._

He whirled.

"Raven?" he cried, confused, vexed, losing his grips on reality...or so he thought.

_Hey_, she greeted too casually and her form was aglow with something he could not name as her ephemeral being materialized before him. He knew what her translucent state meant; this was not Raven come back to life, but it was Raven's heart at least, her soul.

"Come back to me," he pleaded, his broken heart open and vulnerable.

_I cannot,_ she replied sadly, twisting her hands together anxiously. I shouldn't even be here but..._I missed you_, she repeated now and he tried to embrace her.

He fell through her.

Her eyes clouded.

_I am sorry. I should not have come. Forgive me Richard. I had to see you one last time. _

"But Raven, we'll be together...one day!" Robin shouted as she began to fade and his heart buried itself in her grave, broken pieces and all, when she shook her head.

_That is why I came...I wanted to wait but...Arella has just let me know...I cannot stay in the Heavens. I am Trigon's daughter, after all._

Robin shook his head, eyes wild with anguish.

"No! No! That is not how it is supposed to be! We are supposed to wait, we are supposed to wait for years that will render me nearly emotionless and scarred, for years that will be horrible and almost unbearable, but years that will be worth it when I leave this place and can hold you in my arms again! Raven! You saved the world, twice! How can they refuse you?" His speech was noble and his anger on her behalf heartened her even as she knew it made little difference what she had done for earth.

_It was redemption; I will not go...to Hell...again. But I am not able to stay where the holiness is foremost in importance; I am being sent to somewhere in between._

"Then I will go there," Robin replied quickly, shortly, insistently.

_You will go where heroes go,_ she told him sadly; he could barely see her at all anymore, save her gorgeous and heartrending eyes.

"They would leave you to an eternity of solitude after everything you sacrificed?" he asked, still unwilling to believe.

_I will not be...alone,_ she said carefully, and Robin knew what she meant, immediately wishing he didn't. _Slade has been given salvation as well; he will not go to the underworld, even if he cannot enter Heaven...well, if he doesn't do anything too awful before his time is come.  
_

"You still love him?" Robin asked, needing to know what it was best to never know.

She was fading into the sunlight spattering down but he could see her nod mutely.

"I love you so much, Rae," he said and his bitterness was not for her but for the absurdly unkind hand fate had dealt them...had dealt him. It was not fair; after all she had done, all they had been through...this was it. "If he does...get to be with you, allow him...for I cannot think of you being alone forever," he said, hoarse with renewed loss and understanding. And in that he gave her what little blessing he could, being only a man, only human, no God or sorcerer who could hope to or dare to promise her more than acceptance of her choice.

But what he offered her now, what he gave to her, was so much more and Raven knew it thus.

_I...I shall try to contact you again...though I cannot promise..._

She stumbled over her words, voice shaking with the effort to not sob.

His words rang full in her ears and her heart.

And maybe his generosity and full-blown devotion to her was what gave her the courage to tell him the whole truth she would later tell Slade, who would accept what she said for what it was as well because he too loved her just as much, in his own way:

_But promises I cannot keep aside, I now know this, Richard Grayson. For all that I love Slade, and I will not lie to you; I do...  
_

He cringed.

_... I love you most of all._

It was a whisper and the last glimmer of her soul disappeared from him, leaving Robin standing, facing a nothing that chilled him like nothing else before.

His eyes fell to the violets and his gaze became achingly tender.

"Thank you."

That was all he had left.

Robin retreated into his room for the remainder of the day and was not seen until the next morning.

On said next morning Cyborg sat, rigid with tension, at the counter, pushing eggs—tofu ones, which were testaments to his hollow state—around his plate. The couch pretended to be a bed, Starfire sleeping on it with a distressed expression on her usually bright and lovely face. Sitting near the window, was Beast Boy, plate of tofu eggs on his lap, untouched and now very cold and unpalatable—not that he would have noticed if he had bothered to lift his fork. The swoosh of a door alerted the entrance of the last remaining titan and eyes turned dully toward Robin as he stepped in.

Except that he wasn't Robin at all.

"Robin?" Beast Boy asked the black clad figure; the stylized silhouette of a bird inked in blue lay itself across his chest, bold and dark as the man behind the eye-mask, which was narrower now.

"Nightwing," he corrected without feeling.

No one questioned him and when Starfire awoke, recognizing Robin's new appearance as that of the Robin from the future she had once been thrust into, was not startled. She was merely accepting and for that he was appreciative.

Everything had become about acceptance lately.

But accept they did. It was what they had to do, after all.

And Robin, now Nightwing, surprised himself when—ten months later—he did not flinch away as Starfire gently laid a hand on his shoulder. It was the first human contact of the physical kind he'd had since...

Well, he couldn't think of that now, much as he thought of her all the time.

It was something of a paradox, but he was used to it.

"It has been over a year now," her voice said, all softness and remorse and, when minutes later her hand had not moved or been moved from Nightwing's shoulder by him or her, she dared to rest her head against it instead. His first instinct was to back away as his heart clenched at the memory of a girl cloaked in white and at first he thought it the fanatical delusions of his despair and heartache that he heard something...but he soon knew it to be very real, at least to him.

_It's alright, Richard...you have much life left to give to earth...do not live it alone. Whatever you do, whatever you choose...whatever I have chosen...I love you always...and I know you love me...now…yes, I know it now...and I tell you again: do not live so alone. We both know what happened was...—_and here her words seemed to resonate in a wry tone in his mind as she finished_—for the birds. _

_But the rest of your life is not. That is up to you and you alone...and she loves you very much. Let her in…and...—_he thought he heard some tears_—let me go. This is the last time I may speak with you...so let me go. And I, I will do the same...and hope we will meet again in another life when maybe you will not be the stubborn, style-challenged leader of a group of teenage superheroes and I will not be the spawn of a demon lord...a life when maybe we will just be two people._

_Until then though...let go, beloved. For, we are what we are, and this is what we have to square with now. And never forget that somewhere, someone believes in you, even if you never hear her, or see her, never feel her presence, she is there and she believes in you, always. I believe in you._

_Always. _

He knew the voice even if he could not see the body.

And he understood, even without their bond. He turned his gaze to the considerably more subdued Tameranian princess who returned his look with an incomparable patience that spoke volumes of her growth and more so of her never-wavering adoration for the man beside her.

She offered the slightest of smiles, something she'd been very careful not to do much or at all since the death of their friend.

To her great surprise he returned it, if even slighter than her own, but she was looking for anything at all like it, so she saw it in all its subtle handsomeness. And she was not foolish. There was sorrow deep in the lines around his mouth and a constantly worried quirk of his brow that suggested he never believed what he saw anymore unless he had to...but the smile made it all soften nonetheless.

And then he spoke.

"Over a year," he murmured in agreement and did not pull away as Starfire let go of her respectful reservation and pulled him into an embrace Richard Grayson had the open mind to reciprocate.

_Let go._

The words echoed in his mind and though his heart twisted still, he thought because he knew it was what she would want and what on some level, he might one day truly want too: _I shall try._

_I shall try._

---------------------------------------------------------------

She wept again.

It seemed like only yesterday she had done the same thing in her mother's arms in Heaven. Now she was lone in something they called Purgatory...a void that to Raven was worse than the flames of Hell because they offered no physical pain as a distraction from her mental anguish. Here there was nothing but her solitary self and she wanted oblivion, wanted an end to it all.

Her weeping shook her to her core and she thought_: I am glad Robin has someone he may grow to love._ For she had heard his promise to make an effort to do as she had asked him...just barely, but it was enough that she heard him at all.

Even as she continued to sob, the alluring and intriguing scent of roses began to permeate her surroundings suddenly, but she was so despondent in her grief, Raven only noticed it on a subconscious level.

It took actual words to stir her much from it at all.

"You are even beautiful when you cry, though it breaks my heart." Arms wrapped around her and she cried all the more. This was a hallucination; it would disappear when she dared to open her eyes all the way and his embrace would be reduced to nothing and she, she would be alone again...alone with the dreadful nothing that was the result of not being evil enough for Hell and not pure or holy enough for Heaven.

"Go away…" she hit at him blindly. "You're only going to leave like everything else, disappear...leave me alone...just go!" Her heartache ripped through him and she continued to try and beat him with her eyes closed in terrified denial until he caught her wrists softly in his hands.

"Please don't. For truly, I cannot bear your tears any longer," he hushed her gently and the deep, solid timbre of his voice reverberated through her like a cat's methodical purr of soothing. But fear took the reins and she still would not open her eyes, though her tears did halt and her attempts to hit him stopped too. She heard him sigh, but instead of feeling his warmth disappear as she had dreaded, she felt it increase as he held her tighter to him, tenderly guiding her arms to wrap around his neck and letting his own hands settle affectionately on her waist. "Raven, I have waited long enough to be here with you...I am not going to leave...not that I have a choice anyway," he added this last part, slightly amused with the idea of trying to hoodwink the greater Gods. It must have been his lighter tone that encouraged her to open one eye, slowly and suspiciously.

"Slade," she said, incredulous. He nodded. She opened her other eye, staring now, and he gathered her fully into his arms, like a child, but more loving.

"Raven," he rejoined almost comically.

"I don't believe it," she finally said after a comfortable silence.

"I do," Slade said resoundingly and she marveled at the role-reversal.

"Then...you won't disappear, will you?" she asked, frightened again.

"Never," he promised.

"Ever?" she persisted.

He rolled his eyes to the Heavens that had rejected them both and quieted her disbelief with a kiss that more than answered her prompt, and any other questions she might have had.

_Allow him,_ she remembered her leader say to her spirit at her grave.

_Let go_, she remembered telling him as he stood next to the beautiful alien.

"He is still in my heart," she confessed, breaking from the kiss. Slade eyed her thoughtfully.

"Addie resides in mine as well," he said at last and she understood what he meant. She understood he referred not to the forsaking of one love for another, but the ability to have one co-exist with the other, as sometimes love in itself demanded.

And somehow through fate or fortune or what-have-you, balance was regained and as two lovers slowly learned to heal each other on earth, so did two others in a Purgatory that they would not trade for Heaven on any day of the millennium to come.

* * *

Okay, that was the end unless I do an epilogue. The epilogue would mainly be for Robin and Raven though—the allusion to another lifetime. It would seem slightly AU but again, it would be an entirely other life time, so maybe not so AU after all. It would be an epilogue though, exploring more of fate and that idea of them meeting again, you know, destined great loves and whatnot. 

Let me know what you think. If you want an epilogue/ are interested, it will be of the nature listed above. So um, let me know if you are...interested I mean.

Thank you so much for all the reviews, the support and so on.

Especially thank you to Cherry Jade.

You really _do _rock...times two. Heh.

-Rei

p.s. castle in the air...you make me so happy. thank you.


	11. Epilogue: inches

TEEN TITANS is not mine. Blast it.

Since so many voted in favor of it—and thank you, your words mean a lot to me—here is an epilogue.

Remember: it's another life.

To/For/dedication/etc.: The Writer you Fools, castle in the air, alena-chan, and Cherry Jade

Now then, on with the show.

* * *

**For Nothing, For Everything...For the Birds**

**Epilogue: inches**

* * *

When he entered the bar he didn't expect anyone else to be there at the ungodly hour in the middle of the work week. Who got depressed on a Tuesday? A list came to mind but he shoved it away because it rationalized his being there too much and too easily. Sliding onto a stool, he took note of the attractive woman one seat away from him on his right. And they sat like that, one pretending not to really acknowledge the other for some time while in fact, the only thing they noticed was each other.

_And if I move a little closer_

_It's the inches_

_Making it count that much _

It was nearly four now and he'd been watching her for some time now; she was certain...well, as certain as she could be. One couldn't tell with the way those lazy black lashes veiled the crystal blue beneath them. It was enough to throw anyone off of his true intentions and actions.

But she wasn't anyone and now, she turned to him.

"Stranger," she greeted, foregoing the 'hello' in light of her dislike of clichés and the overall cheeriness of the word itself, and took seat one stool away from him.

"Stranger," he replied and lessened the gap between them, shifting from his stool to the one directly left of her. "You probably have a story about why you're in a bar by yourself at four in the morning on a Tuesday," he suggested, eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Probably," she said, glad he hadn't called her beautiful, and leaned her head on her hand, elbow propped on the bar counter. He read her gaze as curious and maybe a little calculating. That was right before he fell into it.

_And if I look a little longer_

_It's the inches, cruel inches_

_Holding me to you stronger _

Those eyes pierced through him, glistening like the amethyst tones they reflected and held him, spellbound. It felt like they were reaching out to him, however silly that thought might have been. With some difficulty, he tore his eyes from hers, focusing on other parts of her seeming perfection.

Her skin, the man noticed, was a pale hue, like moonlight without the patches of gray, and when she turned to the bartender to tell him what she wanted the man also noticed that her hair was the most inconceivable shade of violet he'd ever seen; and it was beautiful. She picked up her glass, tapered fingers clasping the neck of the drink with unerring lightness as she swirled the contents before taking a sip. Her lips parted just slightly to let the cool red slip between them, and when a drop escaped to stay on her lower lip, she let her tongue flick out to get it.

And that was beautiful too, more sensual, carnal even...but beautiful.

It was almost devastating, and he knew he was staring, but he didn't care.

Odd though, he got the feeling she didn't care either. In fact...he almost thought she was staring too. No, he was sure of it on closer inspection, his blue eyes reaching through the air to clasp irises with hers as they made marks in the silence.

She reached a hand up and traced a finger along his jaw; his breath hitched and he knew it was mere flirtation, but some part of him thought maybe there was more than that in her softness, as well as in his own intensifying attraction.

_And if I breathe a little faster_

_It's the inches, seductive inches_

_Reminding me of last year_

"I could give you a picture," she said wryly, retracting her hand, and he laughed, taking a sip of his own drink, covering up his dismay at the lack of warmth where her hand was seconds before.

"I'd rather have the real thing," he said finally, but she didn't seem appalled or surprised.

Some might have said she looked nearly interested.

"I'm not a call-girl you know," she said, voice somehow managing to be mystifyingly appealing in its toneless nature. Mystery. That suited her, he felt. He imagined she read books too, lots of thick literature he himself would never crave, but he would have to wait to find out for sure.

This was just a hunch after all and she was just a stranger in a bar at four a.m. on Tuesday.

Just a stranger...

"I know. You're too smart for that," he nodded. "I still want you though."

"I'm flattered," she said in a tone that half-suggested she wasn't. The other half could be left up to interpretation.

"So about that story," he prompted.

"You're too ambitious," she curtailed him and he arched a brow.

"Oh?" he asked.

"You could start with asking me my name," she said and took his glass from him, sipping on it. "Not my kind of thing, but it's good and strong," she noted. "Some say the drink befits the drinker, but that would mean you are not my kind of thing either..."

The suggestion lay between them like a veil.

"Am I?" He parted the barrier, interested.

"Well, you're no Superman but I can see some potential..." she trailed off, smiling a smile that didn't seem to fit in the bar scene but worked for her anyway.

"Thanks a lot," he pretended to be injured and then added, "Would I be your kind of thing if I _was_ Superman?"

"Not in the least," she said without hesitation and the smile was still there. So she was sexy, funny, smart...he wondered why he didn't come to bars more often. "Flying away I see," she intoned, flicking a piece of hair out of her face.

"What?" he shook his head; he'd wandered off in his mind, but somehow managed to remain very much right there—his mind had been wrapped up in the intriguing person beside him after all.

"You flew away," she remarked.

"A poet?" he inquired. She shook her head.

"Literati," she said without any sense of arrogance, just a sense of fact and he couldn't help feeling a little satisfied with himself. His earlier speculation had been correct; she did read a lot after all. And it was, of course, nothing but a lucky guess, but still...

…maybe this confirmation of his earlier thoughts was a sign?

He wondered.

Minutes passed.

She sighed and eyed him caustically now. "Are you going to get smarter any time soon? I have to go." At first he didn't understand—a testament to her somewhat biting comment—and then as quickly as he didn't get her meaning, he did.

"What's your name?" he asked, picking up on her reason for the insult, which he quickly shelved. It didn't seem to be the kind of thing he was supposed to take seriously, just respond to.

"What's yours, stranger?" she quipped, feeling he hadn't earned hers quite yet, and slid his glass back over to him at last. He took a long drink and then, licking his lips, he paused before answering.

"Richard," he offered.

"Raven," she exchanged after a considerate pause.

_And if I hold you nearer_

_It's the inches, beautiful inches_

_Keeping me here_

"You're not really leaving, are you?" he questioned even though he felt he already knew the answer.

"No, I just got tired of waiting for you," she responded dryly and he gave her a sheepish grin. They were alone; the bartender had disappeared into the back, seeing his only two customers well engrossed with each other. And when Raven turned her head, dark locks framing her face in a subtle swing, Richard felt himself reach out and run his fingers through it. She turned back to him, not alarmed, not insulted...just interested still.

"Sorry to make you wait," he said and his voice seemed deeper, more emotional, but for what reason, neither could tell.

"I didn't mind that much," she relented with that same gentleness he had a feeling she didn't often show and she leaned into his touch as he framed her face with his hand.

"This is strange," Richard said as he traced the bridge of the beautiful girl's nose with his thumb, the curve of her lips with his index finger, and so on.

"Many things in life are _strange_, Richard. Stranger than this even, and I find it's better when things do become just so _strange_ to just...go with it," she pointed out and closed her eyes.

Silently he agreed. Silently he went with it. Silently.

He traced the lids with extra care, marveling at the grace of the way her lashes laid in ebony curves against the flesh of her cheek and he broke the quiet to tear himself from the perfection he was incredulous of.

"Your story?" he asked again and her eyes opened.

"The story of Raven?" she clarified, a smallish smile working its way into her face, her perfect, almost statuary face.

"The story of Raven," he repeated and, not able to resist any longer, angled his face down toward her, bringing his lips in a soft crush against hers.

_And if I chance it twice_

_It's the inches, heartbreaking inches_

_Telling me I'm right...telling me I'm right_

And for all that it should not have been possible, she moved a little closer, feeling some part of her soul intertwine with his as Richard drew her frame against his, not caring that they were in public...there was no one there to see them anyway.

Well, almost no one.

The bartender peered out for just a moment and muttered something to himself before backing away.

It sounded like "...love birds."

Of course, one couldn't be certain.

_And if I dare to tell the truth_

_Oh it's the inches, a lifetime of inches_

_Bringing me closer to you..closer to you.  
_

_

* * *

_

So that's your cryptic 'in another lifetime we will just be two people' epilogue.

Told you it'd be Robin x Raven. And no I didn't forget about Slade—in fact, I even know what happened to him and how he ended up being reincarnated and where he worked/works into Raven's life in that lifetime, but that seemed irrelevant to the point which was that the two birds would meet again. No he didn't betray her and so on.

But another life is another life...same with another love is another love, you know?

Thank you for the fantastic support. Your reviews mean the world to me in all seriousness, if not literalness.

-Rei


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